The Better Man
by Vadakin
Summary: When President Luthor is driven mad by his own mortality, his legacy lies in tatters, his lifetime of plotting rendered pointless. With nothing left to lose, Lex turns his attentions to his greatest enemy, seeking to destroy him once and for all. These are the events surrounding that final confrontation and ultimate battle between Lex Luthor and Superman.
1. Inauguration Day

**CHAPTER ONE**

**Inauguration Day**

It had been a busy morning. New trade agreements with three South American countries, an interview on the Cat Grant show to put pressure on Congress to push through social housing legislation and chairing a meeting on proposed meta-human registration had ensured little rest of the Vice President. He wasn't affiliated with a political party. He had been chosen as a running mate due to his vast wealth and public image. Some had wondered if he was capable of playing second fiddle, but he had shown patience and dedication. Vice President of the United States of America wasn't a position to laugh at.

Now, for a few brief moments, he could sit in his office in peace. He had ten minutes until his next engagement. Ten minutes wasn't much. But with his busy schedule, it was precious time. Sitting back in his leather chair, the Vice President allowed his eyes to close. He tried to shut out the world for just a moment.

"The Chief Of Staff is here to see you, sir." The voice came from the intercom on his desk. So much for his moment of peace. He opened his eyes and let his finger slide over the reply button.

"Send him in Shelly," he answered. Taking a moment to fix his tie, the Vice President sat up in his chair and waited for a moment. As the door opened, he could see the panic on the face of the White House Chief Of Staff. "What can I do for you John?" he asked.

"You need to come with me, sir." The anxiety in his voice was unmistakable.

"What is it? What's wrong?"

"The President's had a heart attack," John replied, lowering his voice. The Vice President immediately stood up from his chair.

"How is he, is he all right?"

"The White House physician called it sir. He's dead."

The Vice President bowed his head for a moment. He allowed himself a brief moment of reflection. But this wasn't the time to mourn. Stability had to be maintained. "Has the press been informed?"

"Not yet sir. We're drafting a statement right now. I took the liberty of calling the cabinet and the Chief Justice..."

"Chief Justice?" the Vice President asked, still trying to process the news he had received.

"Yes sir, you need to be sworn in."

"Right...right." The Vice President took a deep breath. The President was certainly older than many of his predecessors but he was healthier than most. Nobody had expected this to happen. Continuity was important. The public would mourn and strong leadership was needed to bring them through the crisis. The Twenty-Fifth Amendment of the US Constitution made the process of presidential succession clear. Upon the death of the President, or disability to the point where he could not perform his duties, the Vice President would succeed to the Presidency, assuming the title, role and powers of the office. Many Vice Presidents had thought of their office as a stepping stone to the presidency, normally through their own election campaigns, having worked alongside the President and gained prominence. Directly succeeding the President was always a possibility, one few Vice Presidents actively contemplated.

But just as when Lyndon Johnson succeeded President Kennedy in 1963 following the assassination of the President in Dallas, a Vice President would become President today. He had been many things throughout his life. Industrialist. Inventor. Philanthropist. Genius. He had achieved every goal he had set himself and on this day, a sad day, he would achieve one more and history would record his name as President Luthor.

* * *

_"Once again, out top story. The President suffered a fatal heart attack this morning in the Oval Office. Emergency personnel were immediately summoned and the President was pronounced dead at 11:43 a.m. Let's return now to our White House correspondent, Vicki Vale. Vicki, any updates?"_

_"We've had no update from medical personnel on the cause of the President's heart attack, Mike. It may be some time before we discover what triggered it. The President's body has been taken to an undisclosed medical facility here in Washington D.C. where a post-mortem will be carried out. The President's family, we believe have gone as well to the medical facility, a White House spokesperson has asked for their private grief to be respected, we believe they will release a statement later in the day." _

_"And what's the mood like at the White House?"_

_"Well it's pretty solemn as you can understand. Talking to one aide off air, she told to me that hearing the news, it felt like she had been shot through the heart. There are a lot of tears but also a grim determination to carry on. If you look over my shoulder, you'll see the preparations are being made for Vice President Luthor to succeed to the office. In fact I'm being told now...yes...I've just been told that the inauguration is about to take place so let's look in on that." _

His suit was freshly pressed. The American flag pin over his heart had been polished. As he stepped in front of the cameras and shook hands with the Chief Justice, it occurred to Lex Luthor that he had given up a lot of power to achieve this goal. As founder and CEO of LexCorp, he had turned the city of Metropolis from crumbling city, caught in the storm of recession, to the crowning jewel of American innovation. It was the city of tomorrow and Luthor had been at the heart of that transformation. LexCorp had become the largest conglomerate in the world, and Luthor himself the richest man. On the day he accepted the nomination for Vice President, Luthor stepped aside, allowing his protege, Mercy Graves, to take command of what was a modern empire.

Today was a day that wasn't supposed to happen. Lex Luthor had never been convicted of a crime but speculation had been rife for years that he had been involved in criminal activities. He held no political affiliation or support and instead of choosing to curry favour, he chose to attack both Democrats and Republicans for what he felt was their backwards thinking philosophies and antics. He was also a confirmed atheist. That alone would have hindered his chances had he run for president. But as a vice president, he was seen as a man with the knowledge and experience to aid the President in bringing America forward without any real proposition of him ascending to the top job.

Some commentators speculated that Luthor had hoped to use his vice presidency to convince the American people that was was electable in his own right, whatever his political or religious beliefs. Others believed that Luthor would use the vice presidency to further his own long-term interests and attempt to influence policy in a matter that suited him, if not the country. None of that really mattered now. He was about to become President of the United States and the power and responsibility would be his. As an independent, he would be forced to work with both sides of the divide. His duty would be to act as mediator and bring compromise.

It had been three hours since the death of the President. The news networks had divided their time between eulogising the President, and speculating about Lex Luthor's presidency. Certain networks chose to focus on his status as an atheist and wondered if he would swear on a Bible while taking the oath of office. Reaching under his jacket to his inside pocket, Luthor pulled out a small book and handed it to the Chief Justice.

"I swear by no religion but it does not mean I do not have a creed. If I am to uphold the principles of the constitution, it is only logical that I swear by that constitution."

The cameras all zoomed in on the book in the hands of the Chief Justice. It was a copy of the U.S. Constitution. Resting it on his palm, the Chief Justice motioned for Luthor to place his left hand on the book and to raise his right hand. Normally the Chief Justice would utter the words and the President Elect would repeat them, to ensure no mistakes. But Lex Luthor didn't make mistakes.

He began: "I, Alexander Joseph Luthor, do solemnly swear that I will faithfully execute the Office of President of the United States, and will to the best of my ability, preserve, protect and defend the Constitution Of The United States."

"Congratulations Mr. President." The Chief Justice responded, shaking Luthor's hand. Flashbulbs lit up the room as photographers immortalised the historic moment. Turning to face the media and the world behind the lens, President Luthor took a moment to gather his thoughts. There would be no inauguration speech on the steps of the Capitol. But he would speak here, in the Oval Office, to a nation still waking up to tragedy and transition.

"My fellow Americans," Lex began as so many had before him. "Today we mourn the loss of a great leader, a man of principle and dedication. A friend. We are united in grief and the thoughts of every American are with his family. Tears will flow today and hearts will be broken. Today we feel lost. We feel weak. But it is because we feel weak that we are strong.

"The challenges we face, the adversity that confronts us, shall be overcome because that's what we, as Americans, do better than everyone else. We overcome. We remember those who we have lost. We remember their actions. We remember their hopes and their dreams and when they leave us, we hope to honour their passion and spirit. But even as we stand together in solidarity, as we shed tears together, mourn together, we also stand strong together. We look forward. We face those challenges. And there are many challenges to face. The world our founding fathers lived in when they founded this great nation is not the same as the world today.

"In 1776, men could not fly. A single bomb couldn't destroy an entire city. Benjamin Franklin could envision the power of electricity but not the power of the atom or the mysteries of the universe being revealed to us. There are threats to our way of life, both foreign and domestic. Terrestrial and...otherwise. The so-called metahuman awakening has seen great heroes come to our aid but also powerful villains who seek to dominate us.

"But we shall not be dominated. And while the heroes of the world have saved us numerous times, we will not become reliant on them to save a world we should be saving ourselves. The world can be a better place. A place where dignity and freedom is given to all, not just a lucky few. In the coming days and weeks, analysts and politicians will ask themselves what my policy is, what I intend to do with this opportunity that has been given to me in such tragic circumstances.

"The answer is simple. To work together. To make our home a better place for everyone. Together, we are strong. Together, there is nothing we can't do. Together we can save the world."

The applause from the White House staff was deafening. So much so that nobody heard the glass break or the gunshot that caused it. The bullet had travelled at least half a mile. It had flown over the heads of the people living in Washington D.C., through the bullet-resistant glass of the Oval office window, straight to the back of Luthor's hairless head.

But as the bullet flew, so did something else. It was something faster than a speeding bullet. The gasp in the room prompted Lex to turn around. The first thing he saw was a fist, just inches from where the back of his head had been. The fist opened, revealing a crushed bullet. Luthor looked at his rescuer and smiled.

"Well, it's a busy day for both of us," he remarked as the Secret Service moved in. A shake of the head prompted them to stop and Lex picked the bullet out of the palm of the man that consumed more of his thoughts than any of his great achievements. "Thank you, Superman."

The cameras were on them as Lex extended his hand. Superman didn't hesitate. At least he didn't appear to. In the instant it took to make up his mind about what to do, his powerful brain had processed every variable. Superman knew Lex was dirty. That he was now the president was affront to everything Superman stood for. But even Superman had to keep up appearances. He took Luthor's hand and they shook, his grip a little tighter than usual. Just a reminder to Lex. "Think nothing of it...Mr. President."

Forensics would later match the bullet to the weapon used in multiple assassinations across the continental United States. The weapon of an elite assassin known as Deadshot. What the investigators wouldn't learn was that Lex Luthor had ordered the hit on himself. It was the last piece of the puzzle. The quickest way to get the public onside was an assassination attempt. The President dead, his Vice President shot at while being sworn in. A tragic day. Deadshot was an expert marksman. If the bullet found its mark, it would have grazed Lex, possibly shot the top of his ear off for effect. Surviving would garner sympathy and good will. If Superman intervened, the world would see him shake the President's hand. An endorsement from the most revered and beloved man on the planet would go a long way and if he could make Superman sweat in the process, all the better.

* * *

It was after midnight when Lex finished his last engagement. He knew tomorrow would be an even busier day, when he would set about the process of running the government and bringing a divided Congress into line. He'd done deals with Congressmen and Senators in his time at LexCorp and when he agreed to be a presidential running mate, he made it his business to discover every little secret in the House. He was effectively an independent president and should have been bullied into submission by both sides. Instead he would bully them. America would see him as the great uniter and Lex would cement his legacy by making America and the world a far better place to live, or at least his vision of what that meant.

Taking a moment, Lex walked behind the President's desk in the Oval Office and sat in the chair. He felt a little dizzy. It had been a long day. Leaning back, he let the events of the day wash over him. He closed his eyes. When they opened again, one of his aides was standing in front of him and the room was awash with sunlight. Had he slept the whole night?

"What time is it?" he asked as he gingerly moved forward in his chair to rest his palms on the desk.

"Seven Thirty, Mr. President."

It took Lex a second to remember that the aide was referring to him. Mr President. He liked it. He tried to get to his feet but for the briefest of moments, his strength seemed to fail him. After taking a breath to compose himself, he stood straight up and pressed his fist against the top of the desk, taking a defiant stance. "What's on the agenda?"

"The British Prime Minister is scheduled to phone at Eight, sir. There are numerous phone calls set to come in from other dignitaries to offer condolences and congratulations. The First...sorry sir, the _former_ First Lady would like to talk about funeral arrangements. We've got a busy day ahead Mr. President."

"Yes we do," Lex replied, hiding a grin, "yes we do."


	2. Mortal

**CHAPTER TWO**

**Mortal**

"What about debris?" Lex asked as he looked at the large screen in his private office. Mercy Graves, CEO of LexCorp looked back at him through the screen, occasionally glancing at her notes. It had been three weeks since Luthor's inauguration and three weeks since the _Brainiac_ _incident_.

"There's nothing Lex." She noticed the slight twinge of anger behind his eyes immediately. "Sorry. Mr. President. It's like the whole thing just disappeared. There's no sign of the ship or a body. She couldn't have survived..."

"She's Kryptonian," Lex reminded her, "they seem make a habit of not dying."

"I'll tell the crew to keep looking."

"No. Bring them home. What about Project Red Sun? Can it be repaired?"

"Professor Hamilton seems to think so. I'll make sure he gets to work on it right away," Mercy responded, anticipating Lex's next command.

"Good. Keep me informed." A press of a button later and the monitor was dark. No goodbyes, no small talk. Technically, Lex wasn't supposed to have any contact with LexCorp or knowledge of its operations. He was the President and all of his assets should have been placed in a blind trust but Lex made sure his company would be in the hands of someone he could trust and control. A sharp buzz from his intercom pulled Lex from his thoughts.

"Sir, Senator Monetti is here to see you," the soft feminine voice on the other end of the line stated.

"Thank you Clarice. Send him in," Lex answered, sitting back in his chair.

Senator Anthony Monetti, a New Jersey native, cut an imposing figure. His stride was confident, his demeanour self-assured, his tailoring showed the world that he had money. Towering over most people, he could intimidate anyone. But Lex wasn't anyone.

"Welcome Senator, have a seat." Lex spoke without standing or extending his hand. After all, he'd just gotten comfortable in his chair.

"Thank you, Mr. President. I appreciate you taking the time..."

"I don't have a lot of it, Senator."

"Mr. President?"

"Time, Senator. I'd appreciate you skipping the pleasantries." Lex was in no mood for idle chit-chat or to make friends. He'd done everything to ensure that he wouldn't have to.

"Very well," Senator Monetti replied, a little taken aback, "I'll get straight to it then. Sir, when you nominated me to chair the Metahuman Affairs Committee, I thought it was a commitment from you to follow through on your inauguration speech."

"Oh?" Lex asked, hiding his amusement at the Senator's attempt to play politics.

"You said you wanted to end America's reliance on these...people..."

"I remember my own speech Senator, get to the point."

"The point is Mr. President, I've acquired a piece of draft legislation from the White House, proposing an increase in funding to the Cadmus project, most notably for its metahuman research division."

Lex hid his anger as best he could. Someone had betrayed him and leaked the bill. It didn't matter of course, the bill would pass, but Lex had made it clear in those first few days that he wouldn't tolerate anyone going behind his back. "What seems to be the problem, Senator?"

"The problem? The problem is the last time Cadmus had any power, it resulted in a metahuman war on the streets of our cities. I thought you wanted to end the metahuman influence, not create an army of them."

"Is that what you think this is? We must understand metahumans, Senator. We must know their strengths and weaknesses, we must now how to replicate their powers and remove them. This bill is for research purposes only. I'm not interested in creating another Suicide Squad."

"I appreciate your assurances Mr. President, but this bill..."

"A draft."

"This _draft_ seems unrestricted. Metahuman research can mean a whole lot of things and I'm afraid the metahuman affairs committee will want to take a long hard look at it before it can make any recommendations."

This wasn't supposed to happen. The Metahuman Affairs Committee, set up by Luthor's predecessor, had oversight over Cadmus but Lex had planned to push the bill through as quickly as possible. It was vital to his agenda. Of course, it helps to have leverage on everyone in both houses. "How's your daughter?" Lex asked, suppressing a smirk.

"My...my daughter? What does she have to do with anything?" Monetti asked as he studied Lex, trying to determine if he was making a veiled threat.

"She's a metahuman, is she not? A Teen Titan, I believe. Argent, was it?"

"What? How did...?" The shock on Monetti's face was undeniable.

"I make it my business to know, Senator. It's interesting that you would want to see an end to superheroes when your own daughter is one."

"That's precisely why. She's a teenager. She shouldn't be out there fighting criminals. What happens if Cadmus builds itself another army and goes after the Justice League again? Or the Teen Titans? I won't have my daughter put in any more danger, Mr. President. I won't allow this bill to pass."

Lex considered responding but he gave himself a moment. Senator Monetti's conviction was sincere and Lex appreciated people who stood up for what they believed in and what they wanted. Still, he wasn't going to allow a hypocrite like Monetti stand in his way. After all, Lex had dirt on everybody. "I wonder how the public would react..." he began to ponder.

"You'd put my daughter in danger just to get your way?" Monetti fumed.

"Your daughter?" Lex mused, "Oh no, I admit I was curious about that but I was talking about the other skeleton in your closet. It occurs to me that you came out of nowhere to win your senate seat. You don't come from old money, I've come across no records of a thriving business and I certainly don't recall you winning the lottery. Which begs the question, just where did you get your money, Senator?"

"What are you implying?"

"I'm implying that prior to your successful Senate run, you were the head of one the largest drugs smuggling rings on the East Coast and for all intents and purposes, you still are. So how would the public react if they knew, Senator? A politician with a drug problem can be forgiven. But one who creates that problem for others? Think of the headlines." There was no hiding the smirk now. Lex was enjoying every moment.

"Who the hell do you think you are?" Monetti all but screamed, even as the man across from him kept his cool.

"I think, no I know I'm the President of the United States. I know I have more money than you, more resources than you and I know that every criminal contact you have was in my pocket long before you decided to facilitate the wanton urges of the population." Monetti's raised eyebrows told their own story as Lex continued; "Oh I'm just as dirty as you Monetti. The difference between us is that I know how to clean up after myself."

The seething rage building up in Monetti faded, replaced by grim resignation. "What do you want?"

"Not a thing. Go back to your committee and do nothing. I don't care about your other business. I believe in self-determination and supply and demand. If people want to poison themselves, that's their business and if a rat like you wants to sell the poison, well that's just the American way. So go back to the Senate, don't oppose this bill and perhaps you won't wake up tomorrow to the sound of DEA agents breaking down your door." The sweet smell of victory.

Monetti remained speechless and motionless. He'd been outplayed. In fact it had been a walkover. But at that moment, his focus was on something else. "Mr. President..." he started, but his words seemed to slip away from him.

"What is it Monetti? More posturing? Out with it."

"You're...you're nose..."

It was the first surprising thing Monetti had said. For a moment, Lex was unsure what he was talking about. Bringing his left hand to his face, Lex let his index finger slide under his nose. He immediately felt something warm and slightly sticky. Pulling his hand away to look at his finger, he saw an unmistakable red substance. Blood. His blood. Reaching into his pocket for a tissue, there was none to be found. "Tissue. Now!" Lex ordered, extending his hand towards Monetti.

Monetti seemed to hesitate for a second, but realising he didn't want to get into Luthor's bad books any further, he pulled the handkerchief from his from his suit pocket and leaned forward to hand it to the President. Luthor stood, intending to take it but as soon as his legs straightened out, he felt his knees begin to buckle. He blinked a few times, trying to get rid of the spots he was seeing in front of his eyes. Monetti could only watch as the colour drained from Luthor's face and his legs gave way. By the time Lex's head hit the desk and his body fell to the floor, he was already unconscious.

* * *

STAR Labs, Metropolis. Initially taken over by Project Cadmus during the Metahuman Crisis, it has since come under the control of LexCorp. Not only is it a premiere development site for the newest breakthroughs in technology, it's medical research division is second to none. When the President collapsed. The White House physician was immediately called and hospitals across Washington D.C. were put on standby. But Lex insisted on flying to Metropolis. He wanted the best medical care but more than that, he wanted to ensure control and secrecy. Only a handful of people were aware that Lex was there. Professor Hamilton, director of the facility, a few aides and the man overseeing the President's care; Professor Emmet Vale.

"Does he have to be here?" Vale asked, nodding towards the big secret service agent standing in the corner.

"Otis has been watching my back since I was at LexCorp. He's like a dog. Fiercely loyal but he's got one hell of a bite."

Vale's primary expertise was in cybernetics and advanced robotics but he was also an expert in human anatomy. His experiments required the knowledge of a brilliant surgeon. The fact that he owed Lex Luthor his life and his freedom also had a hand in being chosen to assess the President's medical condition. He spent an hour sitting in his office, looking over the scans he had taken of Luthor's impressive brain. In truth, the diagnosis was a simple one but Vale lacked the courage to break the news. So he gave himself time and tried to find the right words. In the end, there were no right words.

"A tumour?" Lex exclaimed, repeating what he'd just been told. "That's impossible."

"I'm afraid it's not, Mr. President," Vale replied solemnly. "We're all mortal. Even you. You can see it manifesting here in the temporal lobe. Judging by the degradation, I would say it's been there for five, maybe six years though it's not as large as I thought it would be."

"That can't be right," Lex declared, denial feeling like his best weapon right now, "why didn't it show up before? Do you know how many check-ups I've had in that time? I take care of myself Professor. This has to be a mistake."

"There's no mistake, sir. To be honest though, what I'm looking at does seem strange."

"It's all strange," Lex replied, unable to take his eyes off the scan.

"Look here," Vale directed, pointing to an area of the scan, "see the fresh regeneration? If I didn't know better, I'd think the tumour had been previously shrunk."

"How?"

Vale pondered the question for a moment. It was indeed a mystery. "Have you had any kind of radiation therapy?"

"Of course not! You think that's why I don't have hair? Is that it?" Lex was fuming now, his rage threatening to boil over.

"Please, Mr. President, calm down. I'm just saying that what I see looks like the result of some aggressive radiation therapy. I don't have an answer beyond that."

Lex stood away, his fingers gripping the bridge of his nose as if trying to prevent the onset of a migraine. But it was frustration that plagued his mind. Frustration that he wasn't in control of his own fate. Frustration that some stupid cancerous cells would rob him of his legacy. Lex had no illusions about death. No stories of a life beyond this one would ever soothe him. He would fade into oblivion. So he spent every waking moment, and many within his dreams, attempting to secure his place in the history books.

It was only when he pulled his gloved hand away from his face, the glove hiding scars from an event in his childhood that historians were blind to, that the obvious struck Professor Vale. "The ring..." he murmured, lost in his own thoughts.

"Ring?" Lex asked, intrigued. "What ring?"

"The kryptonite ring. The one you had me fashion with the left over pieces from the Corben experiment. How long did you wear that thing?"

"Years. I stopped wearing it when I joined the ticket. The PR people said it didn't sit well with focus groups. Why? What are you saying? You're saying the ring kept the cancer away?"

"Perhaps. But it likely also caused it in the first place," Vale speculated.

"No, that can't be right. It doesn't affect humans," declared Lex with authority.

"Kryptonite is radioactive, sir. And you've been around it even more than I have. And not just the ring but the generator project, Metallo...you've been exposed to massive doses of the stuff. Kryptonite radiation is barely detectable. Superman feels the effects almost instantly because his body is designed to absorb radiation. It hasn't learned to filter out the harmful kind. But for us, limited exposure is no more harmful than getting an X-Ray. But you've spent a lot of time around the stuff."

When Lex started to laugh, Professor Vale couldn't help but wonder if he'd had a psychotic break. Luthor soon answered his unanswered question with one of his own. "You don't see it Professor? The irony?"

"I'm afraid not."

"You really don't get it? The one substance in the entire universe that can kill Superman is going to kill me instead. If I believed in God I'd say he has a twisted sense of humour."

"I don't think you're taking this seriously," the Professor said, a note of concern in his voice.

"Oh, I am. Believe me. But you said it yourself. The kryptonite ring kept the tumour small. Aggressive radiation therapy, right? So I'll just wear the ring again."

Professor Vale shook his head. "It's not that simple, sir. It's spread too far. Whatever benefits the ring may have had, the radiation signature would be too weak to help you now and it's buried too deep in the temporal lobe to operate. I'd have to run some blood-work but I'm also pretty sure the kryptonite was poisoning you."

"What, so that's it? I'm just expected to die?" Lex asked, his mortality rushing up on him.

"I'm sorry. It's spreading fast. Soon it will consume your temporal lobe. You won't remember who you are. You should contact the Vice President and inform him your unfit to remain in office."

"Hand power over to Horne? He's an idiot. And if you think I'm going to skulk away into the shadows to be forgotten, you can forget about it. I'm Lex Luthor, dammit!" He was angry now. But with his anger came the root of an idea. "How long do I have?"

"A few weeks, maybe. Your cognitive functions will go before that."

"Well that's how long we have to fix this."

"Fix it? Sir, I don't think you understand..."

"I understand perfectly, Professor. A small ring on my finger kept the tumour at bay for five years. So, the solution is obvious. A larger dose."

"Of kryptonite?" Vale exclaimed, his eyes wide in shock. "Sir, I don't think..."

"We'll kill that tumour completely. Inject the kryptonite into my bloodstream and drown the damn thing. Call Ms. Graves at LexCorp. Tell her you need the liquid kryptonite."

Professor Vale backed away, seeing madness in Lex's eyes. "This is insane. That much kryptonite...it'll kill you!"

"It didn't kill _him_."

"I don't think you can kill a god."

"He's not a god." Lex declared with venom.

"Well, neither are you."

"If I don't do this, I'm dead anyway. We're doing this, Professor."

"No. I won't be a part of it. It's madness."

"This is where you draw the line?" Lex asked with a slight chuckle. "After everything you've done?"

"I gave Corben a chance to live again. But this...I can't. I won't."

Lex thought for a moment about trying to persuade Vale. Noticing Otis, his 6'7" bodyguard standing in the corner, he had a better idea. "Otis..."

"Yes, Mr. President?"

"If the good professor here tries to leave...break him."

"Yes sir, Mr. President."

Vale glanced at Otis and then back at Luthor, seeing the fire in his eyes. Lex wasn't one to go down without a fight and if it meant slapping nature in the face, so be it. Words failed him. He could only nod in reluctant agreement.

"Good," Lex replied, softening his voice but not the tone, "now make the call." The professor was right. Lex knew that. What he was about to attempt was indeed insane. He'd tried for years to take down Superman using kryptonite and failed, not that the attempts had ever been tied back to him of course. But what hurt Superman would surely kill an ordinary man. But from the moment the young Alexander Luthor formed his first thoughts, he knew he was no ordinary man.


	3. Descent

**CHAPTER THREE**

**Descent**

_"...A spokesperson for the President refused to be drawn on what action, if any, would be taken by the administration in response to the conflict on the Kandaqi-Bialyan border. We do know that the President had a brief conversation with Queen Beatriz of Bialya by phone but we don't know how constructive that conversation was and one source within the administration told me that the President is in deep consultation with the Joint Chiefs and as of right now, all options are on the table. This is Vicki Vale, at the White House."_

Otis was the only witness as President Luthor leaned over his desk, hands pressed against the oak surface, his head down as Professor Vale slid a syringe through his skin, into the back of his neck. Gritting his teeth, Lex did everything to prevent himself from crying out as the liquid kryptonite was injected into his system. Searing pain shot through him, his skull felt unbearably hot, as if on fire. As soon as the syringe was removed, Lex stopped clenching and in an instant, his entire body began to shake. He fell back in his chair, a massive seizure overtaking him.

"Get over here and hold him," Vale ordered, prompting Otis to rush to their side. As Lex's eyes rolled back in his skull, Vale worked a small gel-pad into his mouth to prevent him from biting his own tongue.

The pain eventually faded. Lex's body came to rest and as he slowly opened his eyes, he felt truly alive and prepared for anything. He knew it wouldn't last. The pain would return. It would start to build, growing behind his eyes and increasing in intensity and only another injection of the lethal substance would relieve it. Lex wondered if the liquid kryptonite was truly eliminating the pain or if his brain was simply too overwhelmed to process it. "Tell me Professor. What you did for Corben, could you do it for me?" he asked as he regained his senses.

"Corben had a healthy brain. Yours is..."

"Diseased?"

"Not healthy."

"But a body powered by kryptonite...or perhaps an armoured suit of some kind. A constant supply of kryptonite feeding into my brain, keeping me alive and rejuvenated...it's an interesting idea."

"We don't even know if the treatments are working. The kryptonite is likely killing you."

"I feel fine. I feel strong," Lex declared as he got to his feet. "No nose bleeds, no dizziness..."

"And the headaches?"

"Gone for now. It's working. I know it is."

"You don't know that. We need to run more scans. Even if the tumour is shrinking, that much kryptonite in your system will destroy you. What happens when it starts eating away at healthy cells? How long before your cognitive reasoning, your memories, your ability to think at all is impaired?"

"You worry too much Professor. Progress demands risk. In a few weeks, my tumour will have vanished and you'll have discovered the cure for cancer. You'll be famous. Every research facility in the country will want you and I'll pay you millions to stay right where you are."

"Or threaten to kill me..." Vale despaired.

"You just needed a little push in the right direction. You can return to Metropolis. Leave the doses here."

"But I need to administrate them."

"Otis can handle that."

"He's not a doctor. He's a brute."

Otis didn't respond to the remark. He merely glared at Professor Vale. He didn't need words to intimidate people and Vale was clearly intimidated.

"It's alright, Emmet. I can call you Emmet, can't I? Go back to Metropolis and start working on that suit. I'll give Ms. Graves a call and ask her to send you a prototype exoskeleton LexCorp had been working on before I went into politics. Perhaps you can integrate it." Lex had his hand on Vale's shoulder now, escorting him towards the door. "I'll come by in a few days and you can run all the scans you want."

"I don't think..."

"Glorious days, Professor. Glorious days." Lex nodded towards two Secret Service agents standing outside the door. They ushered Professor Vale away before he could say anything more. Vale's briefcase remained open on the desk. Inside was eight more vials containing liquid kryptonite and numerous syringes. Picking up one of the vials, he studied the sickly green contents. "Let's try another dose Otis...just to be safe."

* * *

"As you can see Mr. President, the Bialyan forces are moving from the east towards this small border town. The Kandaqis are amassing their own forces on the other side about four clicks west of the town." A large satellite image of the area in question was projected on to the screen as General Samuel Lane pointed to the relevant locations.

"Queen Beatriz has assured me her troops won't cross the border. They're there to protect the town." President Luthor explained as he studied the image.

"Do you believe her?" General Lane asked, concerned. "Bialya was known for harbouring terrorists and funding attacks against our assets in the region under her predecessor."

"And what about the Kandaqi's?" General Tomlin asked. "They've been trying to get nuclear weapons for years but we all know they don't need them."

"Black Adam hasn't been sighted in the region," General Lane assured his colleague. "It seems he's intent on staying out of this conflict."

"We can't know that. And even if he isn't getting involved now, what happens when Kandaqi's start getting killed. This could escalate." General Tomlin warned. "We should make contact with Captain Marvel."

The debate became an argument, an argument that soon became heated. Everything from troops on the ground and drone strikes to metahuman intervention was being talked about as a quick solution. Sitting at the head of the table, Lex found himself tuning them out. The incessant hammering against his skull was taking up all his attention. The pain was returning. Glancing down at his hand, he stared at it. Watched as it began to shake. Balling his fingers into a fist in an attempt to control himself, Lex looked back over his shoulder towards Otis, trying to signal him. He needed more liquid kryptonite. It had only been forty minutes since his last dose but he could feel his strength draining away.

"There are no bases in that town. Only civilians. A strike would be ineffective and unethical." The debate continued between the Joint Chiefs.

"When did you become so soft Sam? Or are you just worried about what your daughter will write in the newspaper?"

"My daughter has nothing to do with this." General Lane countered with unmistakable venom.

After signalling for Otis to prepare another dose, Lex sat back and closed his eyes, trying to drown out the voices that were now striking against his skull just as hard as the non-stop banging from within. It was all noise and pain. He needed that dose.

"Besides," General Lane continued, setting out his position, "any aggressive action from us will only make targets out of our allies there and pull us into a war we don't want to fight."

"So we stand by and do nothing?" Tomlin asked, making sure to stand up and slam his fist on the table for effect.

"Oh, why don't you two just shut up and let's just nuke them both!" The room went silent. All eyes turned to the President. "That's what's going to happen eventually, so let's just get it over-with now and move on to the next problem."

The sense of shock was shared by everyone in the room. He couldn't be serious, could he? General Lane decided to speak up. "Sir, I don't..."

"I'm not done!" Lex interrupted, his voice cold. "If we don't do something now, we all know what will happen. The Bialyans will move to secure the town and the Kandaqi's will respond. One side will cross the border, it doesn't matter which side. The result will be the same - war. The Bialyans have the superior fighting force and air power. The Kandaqi's will put up a good fight but they're outgunned. How long will it be before they bring Black Adam into the conflict? Once that happens, the Bialyans will feel they have no choice but to launch a nuclear strike. We know the Russians support Bialya and the Chinese have strong trade links with Kandaq so they'll get dragged in on opposite sides. And once that first nuclear bomb goes off, there'll be no stopping the nuclear free-for-all that follows. The US will try to play peacekeeper of course but in the end, there'll be only one way to stop nuclear armageddon and that's to eliminate the problem permanently and I haven't even started on what the Justice League might do. So why not skip to the end and wipe both Bialya and Kandaq off the map right now? It seems logical, doesn't it?"

Nobody knew what to say. They could only listen, dumbfounded as Lex went off on his tangent. No one in the room had considered a nuclear option. Not even the hard-liner, General Tomlin. It was so far from everyone's mind that when Lex suggested it, they all assumed it had to be a joke.

General Tomlin was the first to say something. "Sir, you...we can't launch a nuclear attack on Bialya and Kandaq."

"Why not?" Lex asked, his face not giving anything away.

"Sir, we're not at war with them."

"But you're suggesting drone strikes and soldiers."

"Only to keep the two sides apart. Nuclear strikes...it's insane, sir." General Lane added.

The words struck a chord. Lex didn't mean what he'd said, did he? He wasn't entirely sure. Of course launching a nuclear strike was insane. He knew it was. But there was a strange logic to it. What was immediately clear was that there was no appetite in the room for such action. Lex allowed himself a smile. "Yes, it is insane. And they know it. Both sides have all-powerful weapons up their sleeves and most importantly, both sides know it. The build-up on the border is posturing. Nothing more. They won't risk war." He stood up, enjoying the stunned faces around the room. "Now if you'll excuse me gentlemen, I have other engagements. Continue monitoring the situation and keep our forces in the region on alert. That should suffice for now."

The Joint Chiefs all stood. They watched as he left, each of them wondering what exactly had just happened.

* * *

Lex sat in his private office, recovering from the seizure following another dose of liquid kryptonite administered by Otis. His neurons were firing, a thousand thoughts filling his mind. At first he felt an immense sense of pride having taken the Joint Chiefs to school. But as he considered the incident, he began to wonder how much he had actually meant.

"Tell me Otis, what do you think happened in that room?" Lex asked his loyal bodyguard.

"Sir?"

"You saw me. How did I look? How did I sound?"

"Like the President, sir."

"Nuke 'em...I just wanted them to shut up. They prattled on and on and on, their voices drilling into my brain. I put them in their place but how much of it was me?"

"I don't understand," admitted Otis as he began packing away the liquid kryptonite.

"I'm not sure I was completely rational. How much of it was me was teaching those old fools a lesson and how much of it was me wanting to actually launch a nuclear weapon? I mean, to have such power and not use it seems like a waste...doesn't it? But I'm not supposed to think that way. I'm the President. Not a mad man." He watched as Otis closed the case. "Is the kryptonite affecting my judgement? Or is it the tumour? No, I made the right call. I didn't nuke two countries on a whim. My rational mind is intact. But was it the right decision? I wasn't wrong. Eliminate both countries, solve the problem. It makes sense but you can't just go nuking countries."

Otis watched his employer, the man he was dedicated to protecting, go off on a rambling crusade. He had seen many things as LexCorp's head of security, things he would take to his grave and now as he watched his employer, the President, begin to descend into a bout of manic ranting, it gave him pause. But Otis knew better than to question or to doubt. He owed everything to Lex Luthor, including his life. And beyond an eternal debt, Otis knew that Luthor was a dangerous man to make an enemy out of. Better to serve loyally and be rewarded than to turn his back or give voice to doubt and find himself without a tongue or worse, without a pulse. But as Lex continued to rant, Otis began to wonder if perhaps he should say something.

"Sometimes fear is the only thing these people understand. Fear of the wrath of God...if there was such a thing," Lex continued. "But you can't scare whole nations into submission and civility if they don't feel threatened by you. We must set an example and show the world that we mean what we say. If we have to break a few arms treaties to do it, what's the world going to do? Give us a slap on the wrist? They wouldn't dare. Make an example of one of them and it will shut the rest of them up. And if they won't, then wipe the slate clean and nuke them all." Looking across at Otis, Lex could see the confusion and fear behind his eyes. Otis would never say anything, he knew better, but Lex could tell that Otis was worried. "Something to say?"

"No, Mr. President."

"Speak your mind Otis."

Otis opened his mouth to speak but hesitated for a moment. Should he say something? It wasn't his place. But if not his, then whose? "Sir, geopolitics isn't my strong suit."

"But...?"

"But talking about nuclear strikes, about shutting the world up...sir, it doesn't seem rational. Sir, the kryptonite, I think it's..."

"It's what? You think I'm losing it?" Lex asked, enraged. His first instinct was to condemn Otis for even thinking that he wasn't in control. "My mind has always been clear and rational and I've never been afraid to do what must be done and if that means obliterating a couple of backwards countries and any other nation that takes issue with me, then I'll do it."

"And the Joint Chiefs? Congress?"

"I'm the President. If they don't fall into line, I'll make them. Now are you with me or do I need to start looking for your replacement?"

"I'm with you, sir," the ever loyal Otis answered.

"Good," Lex replied. "Now, Professor Vale is on his way to the airport. Call him and tell him to arrange for a scan here in D.C."

"Sir?" To say Otis was puzzled would be an understatement.

"You're right. I'm not being rational. I'm letting my ego and my emotions interfere with my judgement. Whether it's the tumour or the kryptonite, it's getting harder to think clearly. Perhaps I'm just dosing too much. Whatever the case, I need a scan."

Lex was nothing if not surprising. One moment he'd go off the rails, threatening to obliterate anyone in his way and the next, he was analysing his own behaviour, trying to keep himself in line. He'd always had trouble keeping his ego in check, even as a boy, growing up in the Slums. He spent his whole life proving he was better than everyone else. When the local bullies decided to give him a kicking just for having red hair or for being an honour student or whatever excuse they decided to make up that particular day, rather than keep his mouth shut and hope they'd go easy him, Lex would confront them and dare them to strike him. Most of the time they did just that. They would beat him to a bloody pulp because he wouldn't keep his mouth shut, even while bleeding profusely. Lex kept count of every kick. Every punch. He never forget. When he founded Lex Luthor Incorporated, he made sure to hire the very people who had used him as a punching bag. He made sure to own them. As Lex's fortunes rose, he would ensure that they had a job and enough money to feed their family and maintain a relatively comfortable lifestyle. Then, without warning, he would take it all away. He wouldn't just have them fired, he'd make sure they couldn't get another job in the city. And when the banks repossessed their homes, Lex would buy them and tear them down, just to show them what he said as a child was true: I'm better than you.

* * *

The entire twelfth floor at Walter Reed had been evacuated when the President arrived. A few doctors grumbled when Professor Vale told them their assistance wouldn't be necessary. A single nurse remained to help with the CT Scan but she too was ushered towards the elevator once her task was complete. Secret Service agents lined the corridors but only Otis was allowed to remain at the President's side as he awaited the results of his scan in a private room. Standing by the window, Lex cast his gaze over the town of Bethesda, pondering his future. Having worked so hard and for so long, the notion that it could be be gone before he truly had a chance to cement his legacy was one he couldn't stomach. When Professor Vale entered, Lex could see the bad news written on his face.

"Mr. President, sir. I think you should sit down," Vale suggested, trying to hide the shiver in his voice.

"Spare me the bedside manner Professor. Just tell me." Lex was in no mood to skirt around the issue.

"As you wish. The scan shows that the liquid kryptonite has reduced the size of the tumour."

The surprise in Lex's eyes was telling. Good news? Had he misjudged Professor Vale's body language when he entered? "You mean it's working? I'll be cured?"

"The tumour has decreased by about three percent. But sir, it's not enough. It's happening too slowly. Sir, the tumour will kill you before the kryptonite has a chance to be truly effective."

"Then we up the dose."

"The scans show you've already been dosing far more than I recommended. And the kryptonite is poisoning you. If you continue to take it, I fear the kryptonite will kill you before the cancer gets the chance."

"No," Lex declared in denial, "I feel better with each dose. When the headaches come, another dose gets rid of the pain."

"You're using it as a painkiller? Sir, kryptonite is poison. You're injecting radioactive material into your brain. You convinced me that since you were dying anyway, the risk was worth it. But the kryptonite is doing more than poisoning your brain. It's altering your brain chemistry."

"I have been...irrational. My thoughts have been...not my own." Lex confirmed. "But what's the alternative? Stop taking it? Let my higher functions be diminished until I die a few weeks from now, a slobbering fool?"

"At this stage there's nothing to be done," Professor Vale conceded. "If we had caught the tumour sooner, perhaps it would have worked. But now, whether you take the kryptonite or not, you're going to die and your competency will erode long before that. Sir, it's time to inform the Cabinet. As your doctor I must insist."

Lex didn't argue. He didn't say anything. After all his struggles and triumphs. He built an empire from the most humble of beginnings. His imagination gave rise to countless technological breakthroughs, his theories paved the way for humanity's future. As the President, he would have led humanity to that future. A future without capes and cowls, without the need to rely on self-righteous gods. The world didn't require Atlas to hold it up on his shoulders. None of it mattered now. He would stand down as President and the name Lex Luthor would fade into obscurity, outshone by an undeserving alien.

He thought back to his inauguration. He had planned it so well. Deadshot would fire a shot from impossible range and Superman would catch the bullet. An attempted assassination and the perception that he and Superman were on the same time. It went off without a hitch. Such publicity was priceless and the good will it generated was a commodity Lex intended to make full use of in pushing his agenda. But now, with his dreams in tatters, Lex began to wonder if perhaps he shouldn't have told Deadshot to aim wide, if the bullet should have contained a sliver of kryptonite to keep the Kryptonian from catching it. Better to end it quickly than to endure the indignity of losing his mental faculties and meeting death like a whimpering goldfish.

But Superman had saved him as planned. But then Superman was always there. Lex had built the modern Metropolis in his own image. It was to be a vibrant city that was an example to the world, a city under his control and a population that would adore him as their intellectual saviour. But then came Superman. The so-called Man Of Steel stole his adoring public. Superman had set him back countless times. He'd never been caught of course. His alliance with the villainous Brainiac, his funding of Intergang, none of it came to light. Lex knew how to cover his tracks. It would be one thing if Superman operated in equal measure around the world but that wasn't the case. It was Metropolis, always Metropolis. He always showed up in the nick of time and the people of that city, Lex's city, loved him for it. They were practically his accomplices.

Superman had always suspected Lex. That's why he chose to wore the kryptonite ring. A precaution against the inevitable day Superman would come to take him down. It was that ring that gave Lex his cancer. The radioactive pieces of a dead world, the one thing that could kill Superman would kill Lex. It should have saved him. No. Superman should have saved him. He had X-Ray vision, right? One scan of Lex's head would have told Superman that Lex was sick long before he found out himself. If Superman was really a hero, he would done it. He would have saved Lex. But what if he did scan Lex's brain? What if he did know and chose to say nothing? It would make him just as responsible. No. It would make him singularly responsible. After all, Superman could never prove that Lex was involved with anything illegal and killing didn't seem to be his style. But allowing someone to die?

Lex pondered the scenario again and again. Was Superman capable of it? Could he allow someone, even his worst enemy, to die? He was an alien after all. As much as he pretended otherwise, Superman could never have any real connection to humanity. Letting Lex die was a simple matter. But what if it was more than that? What if he planned this all along?

"He knew..." Lex murmured to himself as a hundred scenarios ran through his brain.

"What?" Professor Vale asked, confused.

"He knew this would happen. He wanted it to happen."

"Who? I don't understand."

"Use that big brain of yours Professor. Who had the most to gain by seeing me dead? Who's been hounding me for years, looking for a way to bring me down? Who stole my city from me? _My_ city!"

"Superman? Sir, you're not making any sense. The Metallo project was your idea, as was the kryptonite generator. He didn't expose you to kryptonite, you exposed yourself. He didn't make you wear that ring."

"Didn't he? He's always been there, tormenting me. The first time we met, he told me he'd be watching me and he has been. He didn't make me put that ring on but he left me no other choice. He must have known what it would do to me. When I joined the Presidential race, I took off that ring, the tumour was allowed to grow and he did nothing. He didn't just know, he wanted it to happen. He planned for it. He can't kill me directly, it would hurt his image. But if he could get me to poison myself...oh it's a clever plan. Almost as good as one of mine."

Professor Vale could see Lex's eyes shifting back and forth as he allowed his thoughts to consume him. He watched Lex pace around the room, constantly looking out the window as if expecting to see someone looking back, even though they were on the twelfth floor. "Mr. President, sir you're not being rational. I believe the kryptonite is disrupting the logical centres of your mind, increasing your sense of paranoia."

"Is it being paranoid if it's true? I'm being logical Professor," Lex insisted as his thoughts became more erratic. "Superman would never allow me to become President. Not unless he knew it wouldn't last. This way he gets to keep his hands clean and Metropolis...and the whole damn world will love him. They won't know what he is. Well I won't go down without a fight. Metropolis is mine! I built it, it belongs to me!"

"What do you mean?" Vale asked as he glanced nervously at an unmoved Otis.

"He's always there. He's probably there right now, preaching to the delusional. I won't let him corrupt my city," Lex declared as he reached into his pocket and pulled out his smartphone. "I'd rather see it burn, and him along with it." Lex began scrolling through his phone, looking for the right application.

"What are you doing?"

"Do you know how many defence projects LexCorp has? We oversaw the refit of twelve nuclear submarines with kryptonite reactors and the development of tactical kryptonite warheads to be deployed in those subs in the event of a repeat of the Zod incident or a certain hero going rogue. The refit of those submarines was total, right down to the computer systems installed. It's all LexCorp technology and I like to keep an eye on my investments. That's why I built a backdoor into the system. Congress would never allow me to launch a nuclear strike against an American city. Even our enemies are safe from our nuclear might. Contrary to what the movies might tell you, the President can't just launch a nuke. A lot of people need to agree. There's also no accounting for the conscience of submarine commanders. So I'll take it out of their hands. I can access LexCorp's systems from this phone and take control the launch systems of...let's say...the USS Wavebreaker, currently doing exercises near Coast City."

Professor Vale stood, aghast at what he was hearing. "You can't be serious. There's nine million people in Metropolis."

"And their lives belong to me. He won't have them." Lex's descent into madness was unstoppable now. There was no doubt, no lingering sense that his diseased mind was at war with itself. From his phone, he accessed LexCorp's systems and began the process of taking control of the Wavebreaker. For a few moments, he found some unexpected attempts to block him. Someone at LexCorp was trying to cut his access to the system but Lex was ready for that. Integrating with the Wavebreaker's targeting systems, Lex set the target for Metropolis. "It makes sense Professor. When the Pharaohs died, their possessions went with them to the afterlife. If I believed in such things then I would tell you that the death of Metropolis is merely a means to take what belongs to me to the great beyond. The truth is, if I'm to be denied my legacy, then the world should be denied it too."

"You're mad. I won't let you do this!" Vale declared, rushing at Lex. Tackling the President to the ground, Vale watched as the phone slipped from the President's hand and smashed against the hard floor, breaking apart. Vale breathed a sigh of relief as the phone broke into pieces. His relief turned to a cold chill as Lex began to laugh.

"You're too late. It's already done. Metropolis will burn and so will he."

Professor Vale looked at Lex and up at Otis, who had remained still throughout. "Superman will stop it. He'll find a way."

"He'll try. But there's enough kryptonite in that warhead to give him more than just a bad headache. Even if he manages to divert the missile, it will kill him. And then we'll be even."

"How? How could you do such a thing?"

Lex found himself smiling at the question. "Oh Professor. Haven't you heard? I'm the President."


	4. A Speeding Bullet

**CHAPTER FOUR**

**A Speeding Bullet**

Mercy Graves let her eyes focus on a water droplet as it slid down the window behind her desk on the top floor of LexCorp Tower. Beyond was the best view in all of Metropolis. From her office, she could look down on the whole city. Even the rotating globe atop the Daily Planet building couldn't hope to reach to her feet. It had been raining all day in the city. Brainiac's attack a few weeks earlier had thrown the weather around Metropolis into chaos and it had become wholly unpredictable. The device that had caused it was safely locked away in the large safe in Mercy's office. Technicians had worked to repair it but Mercy knew that only Lex Luthor had the mind required. With him sitting pretty in the White House, it was left to her to manage the multi-billion dollar company.

A knock on the door drew Mercy's attention away from the window. She watched as her secretary strolled in, documents in hand. "The Queen numbers just came in Ms. Graves," the secretary confirmed.

"Thank you Tess. Just leave them on the desk."

"Yes, Ms. Graves," Tess answered before dropping the pile of documents carefully on the desk.

As Tess turned to leave, the click of her heels in time with the old clock near the corner of the desk, Mercy glanced down at pile. "You didn't tell me this job would have so much paperwork," Mercy muttered to herself.

"Excuse me?" Tess enquired.

"Nothing. You can go."

Tess left, closing the door behind her, leaving Mercy alone with hours worth of paperwork. Sitting down, she pulled the first folder from the top of the pile and began to run her eyes over what seemed like a wall of numbers. It was her growing sense of frustration that prompted Mercy's eyes to wander towards the computer screen. She watched as an application seemed to open on its own. At first she assumed it was just the anti-virus software starting a scheduled scan but as she looked closer, Mercy noticed that it was one of the restricted programs that nobody was supposed to have access to. Her eyes widened as the words LEXCORP DEFENSE INITIATIVE flashed across the screen. Even Mercy didn't have access to that program. It was one of the few things Lex Luthor had decreed was off limits when he left LexCorp to take up politics.

"Lex...what are you doing?" Mercy wondered to herself as the program accessed the systems of the USS Wavebreaker. By the time she realised what Lex was up to, he had already taken control of the missile targeting system in the submarine. "Dammit Lex, you crazy bastard!"

Mercy sprang into action immediately, trying to stop Lex from doing what deep in her soul, she knew he was doing. She started by trying to block his access, but that was doomed to failure. Wherever Lex was, he had full control of the system. Simply turning off the computer wouldn't work, she'd have to shut down the entire server. She picked up the phone to call technical services but before she could press a single number on the dial pad, Lex's command was confirmed. His target was Metropolis.

* * *

The USS Wavebreaker had sailed to Coast City to take part in Navy training exercises. After four days of war games, the submarine was now in port, with much of the crew on some much-needed shore-leave. Captain Byrne watched over a skeleton crew, performing random emergency drills, just to keep them on their toes. The skeleton crew was due to rotate out in a few hours for its own shore-leave time, plenty of time for a few more drills and surprise inspections.

Captain Byrne found himself roaming the sub, not interacting with the crew but ensuring that they knew he was there. The Wavebreaker had been involved in the battle of Gotham Bay during the Apokaliptan invasion and Captain Byrne found himself co-ordinating with a fleet of Atlantean ships. Before that battle, the existence of Atlantis had been a legend created by the philosopher Plato. Afterwards, the Wavebreaker found itself on a six month tour of Atlantean waters under a UN mandate to foster a relationship with the ancient and mysterious civilisation. Those were strange times but his crew had risen to the challenge. The Wavebreaker would soon depart on another tour, there were even plans for an exchange programme, with Atlanteans serving on US ships and vice versa. Not today though. Today, Captain Byrne had bigger problems.

When the alarm began to sound, Captain Byrne immediately ran to a comm-station to contact the control centre. "Speak to me XO."

"Sir, our systems are shutting down and we're locked out of launch control."

Captain Byrne immediate ran for the ladder to climb to the Operations Centre. When he arrived, the XO was hurriedly trying to figure out what was going on. "Report!" Captain Byrne ordered.

"I don't get it sir," the XO replied. "It's like someone's taken control of our systems. Missile launch has been compromised."

"But there's nothing in the tube."

"Sir, it's all automated now, ever since the LexCorp refit."

Another voice, belonging to the Weapons Officer behind the Captain confirmed his worst fears. "We've got a missile in the tube."

"Targeting systems are online," the XO confirmed.

"What's the target?" the Captain asked, trying to remain calm.

"Metropolis," the XO replied.

"Abort the launch."

"Abort is non-responsive," answered the Weapons Officer as he tried everything to stop the missile from firing.

"Then shut the whole system down!" the XO ordered, anticipating the Captain's next command.

The Weapons Officer tried to comply with the order but it was far too late. "Sir...missile's away."

"Oh no..." the XO despaired.

"Can we remote detonate?" Captain Byrne asked, fearing he already knew the answer.

"No sir. We're completely locked out."

"What was the payload? What did we fire?" the XO asked as he struggled to comprehend what had just happened.

"A K-1 class, sir," the Weapons Officer responded.

"A kryptonite nuke...get our systems back online and get me the Pentagon."

"Sir, there's nothing we can do," the XO declared. "By the time they scramble jets to intercept it, it will be too late.

"Someone's about to kill nine million Americans using one of our nukes. So until that nuke hits, we operate under the assumption that we can stop it. It's all we can do. And I want you to find out who got into our systems. Radio the other subs and tell them to take launch control completely offline.

"My wife's in Metropolis..." the Weapons Officer said to no one in particular.

"Metropolis isn't done yet son," Captain Byrne assured his officer, placing a hand on his shoulder. "That city is home to someone far more powerful than a nuke."

"But the kryptonite. It will kill him."

"Then pray it doesn't son. Pray it doesn't."

* * *

Metropolis. The jewel in America's crown. The Hyper Sector, home to Metropolis' financial district, made Wall Street look like a small-town bank by comparison. It was a city where nobody ever looked up. They used to. They used to look to the sky all the time, hoping to catch a glimpse of their hero. But after a decade of heroics by their alien protector, he had become part of the furniture. There was no need to look up. If someone had looked up, all they would have seen were the dark rain clouds. Superman wasn't in the sky today. He wasn't saving the world. But his challenge was equally great.

"What about this one, Lois?" Clark Kent asked as he picked up a colourful brochure in the travel agents. "An all-inclusive package deal to Maui. Sun, sand, an exclusive pool..."

"That hotel is probably infested, Clark," Lois replied, barely glancing at the brochure.

"I'm sure it's fine. It looks nice in the photo."

"Of course it does," Lois replied, "That's how they get you. Besides, I'm sure we'd have to fly coach and I have no interest in being crammed in like a sardine. How about this one? First class to Barbados. Lots of leg room and a penthouse suite with a private pool."

"On our salaries? Lois, did Perry give you a raise that you didn't tell me about?"

"Not yet. Maybe I'll ask. Besides, can't you...I don't know...crush a lump of coal into a diamond or something?"

"Lois!" Clark admonished in a hushed tone, glancing around to see if anyone was paying attention. "I wasn't given my powers so I could get rich quick. Besides, I don't know if that would even work. I'd be just as likely to crush the coal into dust."

"I suppose. But we never really had a honeymoon Clark. I don't want to spend two weeks worrying about cockroaches and E. Coli in the water. Besides, I still don't understand we can't just...you know...fly somewhere...the old fashioned way. Who needs a rust-bucket of a plane?"

"I want to do normal things together Lois. Eat fast food, take a plane, do the crossword puzzle. Normal things. Married things."

"Most husbands can't bench press mountains, Clark."

"And most wives don't run into danger instead of away from it."

"That's what makes us special. But I get it. We'll do it your way and take a plane...first class."

"Thank you...wait, what? No, I never said...I mean we can't afford..."

"Too late Smallville. I've made up my mind and you know how stubborn I am."

"Don't I just. Alright, first class to Barbados it is. But you'd better get that raise."

Lois smiled in response and kissed her husband. "Oh I'll get it. Especially when I tell him who you really are."

"You wouldn't!"

"No...but then again, I do need new shoes..." Lois could barely suppress a laugh as she teased her husband. She waited for a witty retort but none was coming. Clark's attention was drawn elsewhere. "Trouble?" she asked, already knowing the answer.

"Someone's broadcasting on an ultrahigh frequency. It's like they're trying to get my attention. I have to go."

Lois nodded her approval and watched as Clark backed out through the door. Picking up the brochure for Barbados, she went to the desk and showed it to the travel agent sitting behind it. "Tell me about this one."

* * *

Mercy waited. She wasn't sure how long it would take or if the call would even be answered. As the rain poured down onto the streets far below, she looked out over the city, hoping to see a sign that her plan was working. Which way would he come from? Was he somewhere in the city, too busy rescuing stray dogs to care? Or perhaps he would fly in from the north. Lex had always suspected that Superman had a secret in the Arctic but he could never prove it.

She never discovered which way he came from. One second, there was empty sky and a bustling city before her eyes. One blink later, the Man Of Steel was hovering at the window, rain cascading against his cape. As he floated in through the window and landed gracefully on the floor, Mercy immediately noticed that he appeared to be perfectly dry. She thought about asking how that was possible, but she had bigger problems to deal with.

"I wasn't sure you'd come."

"An ultrasonic broadcast. It's an interesting way to get my attention, Ms. Graves."

"Well I don't have your number and somehow I didn't think calling out your name would have done me much good."

"What do you want?" Superman asked, coming straight to the point.

As Mercy moved to her desk and deactivated the frequency broadcaster, she knew their time was limited. "It's Lex. I think he's launched a missile at Metropolis."

The statement immediately grabbed Superman's attention. "A missile? You're sure? Why would he do that?"

"I don't know. It's on it's way now, you have to stop it. I'm pretty sure it's nuclear."

"That's insane. Even for him."

"Look, we don't have time for this. It's coming in from the south. Please, hurry."

"If this is a trick..."

"No tricks Superman. One more thing...it's a K-1 class warhead. That means kryptonite."

Superman didn't respond. It took just another blink of Mercy's eyes for him to disappear, leaving a trail of scattered paper all over the floor. Mercy sat down in her chair. There was nowhere to run and she knew it.

* * *

Lex got to his feet and looked down at his broken smartphone. Well, there was no way to stop it now. He glanced at Otis, noting that his bodyguard hadn't moved. "Otis, pick the good Professor up. It's time for us to go."

"Yes, Mr. President." Otis replied as he grabbed Professor Vale and pulled him up.

"You won't get away with this!" Professor Vale declared.

"Oh Emmet, I already have. Don't you see? This is how it was always supposed to be."

"You're sick Lex. You need help."

"That's why you're here. You are my doctor after all."

"And what about you?" Professor Vale asked, turning to Otis. "How can you just stand there? Do you know what he's done?"

Otis didn't speak or move, instead choosing to glare at Professor Vale. Otis had made his choice a long time ago and he was ready to see it through.

"Don't blame Otis. His kind of loyalty is hard to come by. But I do think we should leave. It won't be long before it's traced back to me and I have important work to do. Otis, bring the Professor."

Opening the door, Otis stepped out into the corridor, dragging Professor Vale with him. Three Secret Service agents lined the corridor, unaware of what had been transpiring.

"You!" Professor Vale shouted. "You have to stop him. He's gone mad. He has sent nuke to Metropolis!"

The Secret Service agents weren't sure what to make of the old professor's rambling. They did notice him being manhandled by the President's personal bodyguard. Something had definitely happened. When Lex emerged from the room, one of the agents brought his radio to his lips to confirm that the President was on the move.

"Otis..." Lex began.

"Yes, Mr. President?"

"Kill them."

"Yes sir, Mr. President."

Before the Secret Service agents could react, Otis pushed Professor Vale against the wall and reached into his jacket, pulling out his gun. After some quick and accurate aiming, Otis pulled the trigger, downing the first agent. Before the other two could react, Otis was lining up his second shot. Then his third. Three agents down. There were more in the building and they would surely hear the shots and come running. This proved to be true as two more agents came rushing in from the stairwell. They ran into the line of fire and were quickly disposed of by some pinpoint shooting by Otis.

"Well done, Otis." Lex congratulated.

"Thank you, Mr. President."

"You know, I don't think I want to be President anymore. I quit. Still with me Otis?"

"Yes Mr. Pres...Mr. Luthor."

"Very good Otis. Now, our car surely has a tracker on it so we may have to steal one. Nothing flash, nothing that will stand out. Preferably an old car without a GPS."

"Sir, where are we going?"

"To fix me of course."

* * *

He was faster than a speeding bullet. The whole world knew it. Some suggested that his top speed approached the speed of light and that only Central City's self-proclaimed fastest man alive could match or exceed him in that regard. In truth, Superman had no idea how fast he was and most of the time he didn't get anywhere close to an upper limit. When he was a boy, the young Clark Kent quickly realised that his speed affected the world around him. If he was to travel at top speed within a large urban environment like Metropolis, it could have a devastating effect. So he spent a long time mastering his speed, trying to contain the massive amounts of energy that could cause such damage. At top speed, flying from Metropolis to Coast City might take the briefest of moments. But he wasn't flying at top speed. Even limiting himself, Superman was still fast enough to reach the missile long before it entered the state, never mind the city.

As he flew close to the missile, the familiar pain seemed to sneak up on him. It was a missile designed to kill Kryptonians, thus there was no lead shielding around the warhead. As his muscled seized up, Superman tumbled backwards and began falling out of the sky, the missile racing ahead, rocketing towards its target.

As the missile moved out of range, Superman's body began to recover, his strength returning. The first thing he did was stop his fall and use his enhanced eyes to track where the missile was. "OK so getting close isn't an option. Let's try heat vision."

He took off after it, cutting through the air. Focusing on where the warhead met the fuel tank, Superman felt the fire behind his eyes as he unleashed an intense stream of heat through his pupils, making sure to keep his distance as he followed the missile and began cutting through the outer shell, taking care not to accidentally trigger the warhead.

As the outer shell began to melt away, the heat vision suddenly deflected away from the missile, scorching the ground far below. Surprised, Superman paused to look at where the blast had hit the ground. He breathed a sigh of relief when he saw it had struck farmland with nobody in sight. Whoever owned the land would no doubt be angry that something had burned his crops, but at least he'd be alive. Focusing back on the warhead, Superman saw what had deflected the blast. Underneath the outer shell was another layer, this one of mirrors. Pushing his eyes to look on the sub-atomic level, Superman recognised the mirrors as being made of diamond. They were incredibly strong and resistant to heat. Only Lex Luthor could have had the foresight to design such a missile. Both Superman and the missile were now flying over the ocean as the missile locked in on Metropolis and turned directly north.

"Well, I can't burn the thing. Maybe I can freeze it," Superman suggested to himself as he continued to track the missile, moving closer this time. He felt a little weaker as he got closer to the kryptonite warhead but remained far enough behind the exhaust to remain flying. Taking a deep breath, Superman pursed his lips and began exhaling a torrent of freezing cold air from his highly compressed lungs. Aiming for the fuel tank, Superman hoped that by exposing it to extreme cold he could stop the chemical reaction giving the missile thrust and cause it to drop of the sky and into the ocean.

At least that was the plan. It seemed to be working. The massive thrust pushing the missile forward through the air began to stutter as if the jet propulsion underneath was running out of fuel. The missile began to descend but as it did so, Superman's ears began to pick up a sound coming from the warhead. Using his X-Ray vision, Superman looked through the outer casing of the warhead, to the kryptonite inside and to a timer that was now counting down rapidly. If Superman could force the missile into the ocean, the East Coast would be safe from the fallout but with the missile now counting down to an explosion in the sky, Superman knew that the wind could carry the fallout over land. He had no choice, the missile had to keep going. Ceasing his freeze breath, Superman unleashed a controlled wide burst of heat vision to de-ice the fuel tank. The missile spurred back into life and continued towards its target as the emergency countdown stopped.

"You thought of everything, didn't you Lex..." Superman commented as he tried to come up with a new approach. "You want me to try to divert the missile directly. You know the kryptonite will kill me if I try but also know I won't let those people die. Clever. Well, I'd hate to disappoint you."

With only one choice remaining, Superman sped up and moved alongside the missile. Twisting in the air, he manoeuvred himself underneath the missile and reached upwards with his hands, bracing them against the outer shell. He immediately felt his body begin to absorb the radiation. His face was immediately pale and his strength began to disappear. Inside his cells, the solar energy that gave him his powers was being consumed by a new invader, green and deadly. But Superman refused to give in. He began to push, trying to alter the missile's course, ignoring the increasing pain. His ears picked up the sounds of a busy city in the distance. He didn't need to look. He knew it was Metropolis and he was running out of time. He pushed hard and the missile began to tilt upwards. The sound of the emergency countdown beginning again caught his attention and he immediately let go.

He fell. Superman didn't seem to have the strength or the will to stop himself. As the missile blasted off towards Metropolis, allowing his body to fight back against the kryptonite and expel it from his system, Superman just about managed to turn around and land on his feet. He appeared beaten.

Even a slight course change caused the emergency countdown to activate. There seemed to be nothing he could do. He couldn't stop it or disarm it. He couldn't alter its course. The countdown timer would cause the missile to explode and the kryptonite would invade his cells before that, sapping his strength. It took barely a second for the effects of the kryptonite to start being felt. But maybe a second was all he needed.

Taking off again, Superman headed straight for the missile. As he flew he thought back to a conversation he'd had with an old friend from Gotham. "We're lucky you're on our side," Bruce Wayne had told him. "Someone with your power could solve all their problems by throwing them into the sun. And where would that leave us?"

Maybe Bruce was right. Throwing problems into the sun seemed like the easy way out, and Superman couldn't throw the missile into the sun but if he could get it out into space, Metropolis would be safe. One second until the kryptonite took effect, a couple more until the emergency timer counted down to zero. Enough time perhaps, but he'd need to time it carefully. Otherwise, his effort to save Metropolis would end up destroying it.

The missile was headed for LexCorp. If Lex was going to destroy the city he'd built, he'd start at what he considered to be its greatest monument. The one with his name on it. It flew over the suburbs with Superman catching up and following close behind. Far below, the people of Metropolis heard the sound of a sonic boom. They assumed it was Superman and didn't look up. When they heard the second sonic boom, that drew their attention to the possibility of witnessing some action in the sky.

Superman gave his body the chance to fully recover and set his plan into motion. It wasn't a complicated one. Grab the missile and take off into space with it before the kryptonite crippled him and the missile exploded. The missile was now high over the centre of Metropolis and Superman knew it was or never.

Willing his body forward, Superman injected an immense burst of speed into his flight. It took less than a second for him to match speed with the missile, grab a hold and take off into the upper atmosphere. The sheer force of the speed increase sent a shockwave through the city. The ground began to shake. Windows began to shatter and glass fell onto the streets below. Luckily, the heavy rain had forced many people indoors but even so, there were a number of people forced to shield themselves as the glass fell down on their heads. But even as the shards of glass fell, they were shattered further, almost turning to dust. There would be cuts, there would be bleeding and some would need to go to hospital but nobody would die. The shockwave also hit a power station on the East Side, causing a power outage in half the city and car alarms would continue to whine for hours.

It took Superman just three seconds to grab the missile, blast off, and ascend through the upper atmosphere into space. After one second, his body began to feel the effects of the kryptonite. On two seconds, the emergency countdown started again and on three seconds, Superman found his strength begin to leave him. He hoped he'd have enough to throw the missile towards the massive nuclear reactor at the heart of the solar system.

The throw wasn't as strong as he'd have liked it to be and after five seconds, the countdown hit zero and the missile exploded. The blast extended outwards through space, sending kryptonite radiation in all directions. Superman didn't have the strength to flee and found himself floating, nothing shielding his body from the intensity of the kryptonite that was now filling his cells. It was strange. He didn't seem to feel any pain. Perhaps the blast had fried his nerve endings or maybe he was simply in shock.

The sun was shining on him and within his body, a battle was taking place for control of his cells. Kryptonians had been built to absorb radiation. It was how Superman's ancestors had survived on a once desolate world. That strength had proved to be a weakness. His body had long been incapable of processing kryptonite radiation and now the solar radiation from the life-giving star in the distance, was battling to heal his body and force the kryptonite out of his system. He closed his eyes and drifted through space.

* * *

_"Our top story once again. President Lex Luthor has been removed from office after launching a nuclear strike against the city of Metropolis. The attack was thwarted by Justice League founding member, Superman, who lifted the missile into space. As of yet, there has been no confirmation on Superman's condition. President Luthor is also said to have shot and killed several Secret Service agents and a manhunt is now under way. FBI officials are warning the public not to approach him if they spot him. He is armed and dangerous. Once again, President Lex Luthor has launched a failed nuclear strike..."_

A busted up old station wagon trundled along the interstate. Driving was Professor Emmet Vale while Otis sat alongside him, aiming a gun at his ribcage. In the back, the fugitive Lex Luthor made sure to keep his head down as he grinned at the news coming in over the radio.

"So you saved the city after all. But not yourself I think."

"You don't know that," Professor Vale protested defiantly.

"Just keep driving Professor."

"Where are we even going?"

"Now why would I want to ruin the surprise?"

A few police cars sped by in the opposite direction, likely moving to join the search for Luthor. By the time the authorities realised he was already out of Maryland, Lex would be long gone. They'd never find him. Of course, Lex wasn't interested in simply running and hiding. After all, he didn't have long to live and he was determined to go out on his own terms. With Superman out of the way, he could do that without anyone to stop him.

* * *

His eyes opened. The first thing he saw was the planet Earth. He should have been dead. Why wasn't he dead? Superman didn't know the answer. Right now it didn't matter. He was alive. He had a massive headache but he was alive. Superman remembered Lois talking about her college days, especially the hangovers. Superman didn't get drunk. His body broke down the alcohol far too quickly for that. Lois, in one of her less sophisticated moments, once suggested he try some form of kryptonite cocktail. If getting a hangover was anything like what he was feeling now, he didn't want to know about it.

Looking towards the Earth, his eyes picked up little particles approaching the atmosphere. Nuclear waste from the explosion no doubt. It would likely all disintegrate in the atmosphere but Superman knew it was best to make sure. Feeling his strength start to return, Superman rocketed towards the planet. Once the radioactive material was dealt with, Lex Luthor would be next on the list.

It was only when he was right in the middle of the radioactive cloud that it occurred to Superman that it was a cloud made of kryptonite. He began to back away but as he did so, he found that his strength wasn't failing him. In fact he was getting stronger, not weaker. Perhaps his body had fought so hard against the kryptonite in the blast that it left him with some temporary immunity. Superman didn't know if that made any sense but right now he was intent on taking advantage of this temporary situation and he began to work blasting the radioactive material out of existence with his heat vision.

* * *

_"This just in, NASA observers have confirmed that Superman is alive and well and is currently taking part in some kind of clean up operation in the upper atmosphere. Repeat, Superman is alive..."_

Dammit!" Luthor shouted from the back seat as the news came through the radio. "What does it take to kill him?"

"After all this time, maybe it's time to consider that you can't kill him." Vale answered, hiding a smirk for fear of Otis pulling the trigger on the gun pressed into his side.

"No!" Lex declared, "I refused to believe that he's a god. He can be killed just like everyone else. A kryptonite warhead should have been more than enough. Hell, it's overkill...even for me."

"But it's never worked before. What you had me do to Corben didn't work."

"Metallo was small fry Professor. But you're right. I've been obsessed with kryptonite for so long that it's literally killing me. But not him. I'm beginning to understand that this world makes no sense, Professor. It's backwards. What's poison to him is destroying me. He's the alien and now I'm the fugitive."

"Give yourself up, Lex," Vale pleaded.

"Give...give up? No, Lex Luthor doesn't give up. I just have to be smart about this. Or maybe not. Maybe I need to be human about it. He's taken everything from me. So maybe it's time I take everything from him. He claims to care, so I'll take what he cares about and deform it. I'll attack the people he holds close, the ideals he clings so hard to, I'll tear him apart from the inside out. I can't crush his bones but I can crush his spirit."

"And what then? You want to drive him mad, is that it?" Professor Vale asked as looked through the rear-view mirror and saw Lex descending into madness once again. "Let's say you succeed and you drive him to the edge and beyond, what's to stop him from crushing your skull? He's still Superman."

"You're right," Lex agreed. "You're absolutely right. Superman is too powerful. He'll incinerate me with one blast of his heat vision. Making Superman a killer would certainly destroy his legacy, but it does nothing for mine. No. When I die, the whole world will know that I'm better than him. And maybe I can't beat the super...but I'll sure as hell beat the man."


	5. A Diseased And Brilliant Mind

**CHAPTER FIVE**

**A Diseased And Brilliant Mind**

Mercy Graves sat in her office, head in hands. All around her, FBI agents were pouring through LexCorp's records, searching for clues that might lead them to the whereabouts of Lex Luthor. Mercy had tried to distance herself and the company from Lex's actions but it seemed clear that LexCorp would be shut down, its assets broken up and sold off. Lex was now on top of the FBI's most wanted list. All Mercy could do was oversee the transition and pray that she wouldn't end up in jail herself as an accomplice.

When her phone began to ring, the entire office came to a standstill. A half-dozen agents all turned their glare towards Mercy. The agent-in-charge, David Ryan signaled his technical crew to get ready to track the call before allowing Mercy to answer.

Mercy didn't recognise the number and as she slid her finger across the screen to accept the call but an uncomfortable feeling in her stomach told her everything she needed to know. Putting the receiver to her ear, Mercy hesitated for a moment before her standard greeting passed her lips. "This is Mercy Graves."

_"Hello Mercy..."_

She recognised the voice, as did the FBI agents listening in on the call. "Lex?"

_"You remember your old boss. I'm touched. But I'm afraid I have no time to engage in pointless small talk so I'll come straight to the point. I take it the FBI are in the room, listening in?" _

Mercy found herself glancing across at Agent Ryan. He signaled for her to keep him talking. "Uh...yes. They're going through all the files Lex. Your assets are being frozen and our entire R&D department has been turned over. They...they want you to come in."

_"Is that what they want?"_ Lex asked, not bothering to hide the disinterested tone in his voice. _"Perhaps I should. After all, being on the run isn't my style. But I'd need assurances. After all, they might decide to shoot me on sight." _

"I'm sure they'll accommodate you Lex. "

As Mercy talked, the agent leading the trace, Agent Dillon, approached Agent Ryan to whisper quietly in his ear with an update. "He's in Metropolis, sir."

_"Of course I can't really trust the FBI. But I can trust you, can't I?"_

"Yes...yes of course you can Lex," Mercy replied, unsure of what Lex was up to.

"He's within a three block radius." Another update from Agent Dillon.

_"After all, I took you in off the streets. I fed you, clothed you, trained you. I gave you purpose and the skills required to carry out that purpose."_

"I wouldn't be where I am without you. I know that, Lex."

_"Martial arts, economics, various athletic and academic disciplines. You could have swum in the Olympics and won had you been inclined to do so. What was your record for holding your breath? Eight minutes?"_

"Nine," Mercy replied with accidental pride.

_"Ah, nine. Not a record by any means but still very impressive. Perhaps you might indulge me with a demonstration?"_

"You want me to hold my breath?"

"Sir, he's here!" Dillon exclaimed.

"What!?" Ryan responded, unable to stop himself from shouting.

"He's here sir, he's in the building."

Agent Ryan scrambled to his feet. He needed to act fast. He didn't notice the fans in the air-ducts above his head spinning faster than normal. His mind was on other things. When the gas began to come through the vents, Ryan breathed it in and let it fill his lungs.

_"Yes Mercy, hold your breath. Unless you want to sleep like the other agents." _

Mercy did as she was told. She knew better than to second guess Lex Luthor. She watched, her face going red as the other agents in the room began to collapse to the floor. Agent Dillon fell forwards, hitting his head against the side of the desk as he fell into a slumber. As Agent Ryan tried to help, he felt the strength in his legs disappear. Looking up at a shocked Mercy, he tried to hold his breath but it was far too late.

In a state of shock, Mercy kept her lips sealed and the phone pressed to her ear. She couldn't speak, she couldn't breathe. She considered opening her mouth and letting the contaminated air into her system, but not knowing exactly what the gas had done to the agents, she thought better of it.

_"Just a little longer my dear," _the voice on the other end of the phone assured her as the vents in the ceiling and in the walls began sucking the poisonous air out of the room. Moments later, the office door opened and Otis entered, wearing a gas mask. His employer followed, phone in one hand, some strange device in the other. Allowing the device to scan the air, Lex checked the reading, then pulled off his mask. Otis did the same and Mercy allowed herself to breathe, starting with low, shallow breaths.

"What...what the hell are you doing, Lex?" Mercy angrily asked as she filled her lungs with clean air and tried to bring her breathing under control.

"Don't worry, they're not dead...yet. But Otis here has grown fond of killing government agents. So be a good girl and do as you're told.

"How did you even get in here?"

"Mercy please. I designed this building. There are secrets here that even you don't know about."

"But why come here? The whole city is on the lookout for you. Not to mention Superman."

"Ah yes. Superman. I assume it was you who told him about the missile?"

"Lex, I..."

"Don't fret my dear. I understand completely. You wanted to survive and if there's one thing human beings value above all else, it's survival. I admit it would have been better had you not warned him, but I'm willing to move on from that."

"Lex, you tried to nuke the damn city," Mercy replied venomously. Her tone brought a response from Otis, causing him to shift his weight and put his hand on his gun holster. Mercy sized him up. "And you, you let him. You're just as guilty as he is."

"Are you going to turn me in, little girl?" Otis mocked. Mercy was unfazed.

"Now, now children. Play nice," Lex ordered, standing between them. "I'm afraid we don't have time for long reunions. I'm on a schedule and I have a disgruntled professor in the boot of my car. So I'll have to hurry this along." Otis backed off as Lex made his way towards a large television on the side wall. "Otis, if you don't mind."

Otis followed Lex and lifted the television from the brackets keeping it in place. Mercy watched as Lex ran his hands over the wood panelling. One small section gave way and Lex pressed it inwards with his hand, causing the entire wall to separate, revealing a large safe door behind.

"I'm surprised you didn't tell the FBI about this," Lex commented as he placed himself in front of a retina scanner, which in turn activated a palm print ID panel.

"There didn't seem to be much point," Mercy conceded. "Only you can access it and I assume what's inside is very valuable."

"You thought it would be your retirement fund. Well I'm afraid you'll have to make do with your standard pension...assuming the FBI don't shut the company down and sell off the pieces." A final security measure, a 32-digit code was all that stood between Lex and the safe opening.

"What's so important that you'd risk coming here?" Mercy asked as Lex entered the long code.

"See for yourself," Lex offered as the door to the safe opened. Inside the safe, Mercy could make out some pieces of technology, some from LexCorp, some of alien origin. But front and centre was a large chunk of green meteorite. The largest she'd ever seen.

"Kryptonite? You came here for kryptonite?" Mercy asked, confused. There were easier ways for Lex to get his hands on the deadly space rock.

"Her eyes are open but she does not see," Lex commented to himself as he motioned for Otis to remove the contents. "There's more here than mere kryptonite, my dear. So much more."

Mercy allowed herself to take a closer look at what Otis was removing from the safe. Her eyes widened as the realisation of what Lex was planning hit her. As Lex grabbed a couple of FBI utility bags to house what he intended to take, Mercy pondered what, if anything she could do to stop him. "You're going to try to kill him. That's what the missile was about. That's what you're doing now."

"I'm going to do more than kill him. I'm going to let you in on a secret, Mercy. I'm dying. I have a few weeks left at most. I think Superman should share in my pain. Now, if you'll excuse me, I have work to do." Lex and Otis picked up the now-filled bags and made their way towards the door, stepping over unconscious FBI agents as they went.

"You know he'll win, Lex. He always wins."

"I'm sure he'll try," Lex replied, stopping to look back at his former bodyguard and current CEO of LexCorp. Glancing down at the agents, Lex allowed himself a brief smile. "You know Mercy, it occurs to me that when these agents wake up, they might wonder why you were spared their sleep. They may see you as a suspect. Perhaps you should allow Otis to knock you out...as a precaution of course."

"I think I'll take my chances," Mercy responded, wanting desperately for Lex to leave the office, the building and her life.

"As you wish. Though another thought has just struck me. You know me...probably better than anyone. You know some of my secrets, though not all. But who knows what your mind has stored down the years...you may hold the key to stopping me. You've already betrayed me once today, it would be foolish of me to leave here without covering all my tracks."

Mercy knew what was coming. She knew the look in Lex's eyes, she knew how his mind worked. She found herself backing away. Her eyes shifted down and to the right, towards the desk. There was a pistol in the drawer. She just needed to reach it.

"Otis..." Lex began, causing Mercy to tense up. "Kill her."

As Lex spoke the words, Mercy was already diving behind the desk. Otis meanwhile had dropped the FBI bags. He drew his weapon and fired. The bullet lodged itself in hardened oak. Adrenaline pumped through Mercy's system as she hid behind the desk. She reached for the drawer and opened it, feeling for the gun. Another shot from Otis sent a bullet through flesh and bone, right through her hand. Mercy instinctively pulled her hand away as she let out a short, painful scream.

Otis fired again, both shots hitting the desk. Mercy's heart was racing as she tried to figure out what to do. She couldn't get to the gun in the drawer. Perhaps she should reach one of the downed agents and grab his weapon. Allowing herself a moment to compose herself, Mercy rolled out from behind the desk. Moving quickly, she rushed towards Agent Ryan's prone body and pulled his gun from its holster. Surprised, Otis fired his gun but missed, allowing Mercy the chance to aim. But Otis was no slouch himself as he ducked out of the way moments before Mercy squeezed the trigger.

Wasting no time, Mercy rushed to her feet and swung her leg in a high arc, kicking Otis' weapon from his hand. Otis responded with force, punching Mercy in the jaw. Ignoring the pain, Mercy responded, trying to aim and fire but Otis quickly grabbed her wrist and twisted it, forcing Mercy to drop the gun. With both of them disarmed, their battle became one of pure hand to hand fury, trading blows as Lex watched the show from the sidelines.

Mercy had been Lex's protege. When he first met her, Lex had been touring the slums of Metropolis, riding around the poorest area of the city in the back of his limo. Mercy had come out of nowhere, stepping in front of the car and allowing it to hit her. When the driver exited the car to check on her, Mercy smashed his head against the hood of the car and went straight for the back of the limo, pulling a knife and forcing Lex to exit the vehicle. Still just a teenager, Mercy was wild and fearless but also showed great intelligence and ingenuity, traits Lex admired. Rather than handing over his wallet, he gave her a job. He had given her everything and now he watched as Otis tried to take it all away.

When Otis wrapped his hands around Mercy's neck, trying to squeeze the life out of her, Mercy responded by kicking wildly, catching him in the knee. Otis immediately let go of Otis and tried to steady himself as Mercy backed off and surveyed the room, looking for her weapon. She found it in Lex Luthor's hands. Remembering the gun in the drawer, Mercy rushed towards the window and jumped behind the desk. Before she could grab the gun, a recovered Otis chased her. But rather than leaping over the desk, Otis instead chose to lift the desk and push it forward, pressing Mercy against the window.

Unable to escape and fearing that the window might break, Mercy did her best to struggle and lash out at Otis as he pinned her tighter against the glass. She watched helplessly as Lex raised the gun. Closing her eyes, she waited for the shot. Lex fired, the sound of the bullet leaving the chamber and flying across the room was deafening. But Mercy felt nothing She opened her eyes, stunned that Lex had missed. Looking at her former employer, Mercy saw a sadistic smile on his face. He wasn't looking at her. He was looking just to the left, to the bullet hole in the window.

A small crack began to appear, spreading out from the bullet hole. The crack became larger, with more cracks following until the whole window was unstable.

"Lex..." Mercy began. She didn't finish. Summoning his strength, Otis pushed forward against the desk with all his might, forcing Mercy back even harder against the weakened glass as Lex walked to her side.

"If you're hoping Superman will catch you, I believe he's in Washington, looking for me." Lex told her with a grin. In the instant it took for the glass to shatter, whatever fight Mercy had left in her disappeared. Her body went limp and she resigned herself to her fate. As she fell, the desk falling behind her, she took one last look up at the office, seeing Lex and Otis peering down at her. Finally she closed her eyes and let gravity do its work.

Metropolis was a city where nobody looked up. Nobody saw Mercy Graves fall from the top floor of LexCorp Tower. Bodies didn't just fall out of the sky. When her body hit the pavement, a large wooden desk landing on top of her, the people of Metropolis did find themselves looking up and they did see bodies falling out of the sky. A half dozen unconscious FBI agents followed, including Ryan and Dillon, unaware that they were falling to their deaths.

Later, when police stormed Lex's office, they found nothing. No culprit, just an empty safe, and a broken window. Everyone in Metropolis knew who was responsible. The man who had built their great city and tried to take it down. When Maggie Sawyer, head of the Special Crimes Unit of Metropolis PD ordered a city-wide manhunt for the disgraced President, Lex had already left the city.

A small station wagon turned on to the highway, heading west. As Metropolis faded behind the horizon, Lex Luthor didn't look back. He knew that he would return to Metropolis in triumph or not at all.

* * *

The streets of Washington DC were near-empty as she walked home, carrying a bag of groceries in her hand. The entire East Coast was on high alert. The fugitive president could be anywhere. She wasn't worried. Her department was on lockdown. If Lex's plans involved her or her assets, she'd be ready. What she wasn't ready for was the breeze that brushed against the back of her neck, or the tall figure that stood before her when she instinctively turned her head.

"Mrs. Waller, we need to talk."

Amanda Waller found herself being lifted into the air. Seconds later, she was standing on a rooftop, confronted by the Man Of Steel.

"So, this is how you pick up women," Waller remarked, unintimidated.

"Save it, Mrs. Waller. Tell me where he is!" Superman demanded.

"Why would I know? You think he tells me anything?"

"You've been working with him for years."

"Cadmus isn't what it once was thanks to you and your Justice League."

"Are you trying to say you're not rebuilding?"

"Of course we are," Waller confirmed with more than a touch of resentment. "But after last time there's a lot more oversight. If Lex had any plans for Cadmus, we're in no position to help him. Not that we would."

"You want to see the end of superheroes just as much as he does."

"Yes I do. You're dangerous and unaccountable to anyone. I admit Cadmus made some mistakes but trying to protect this country from gods wasn't one of them."

"The Justice League aren't your enemy, we only want to help."

"For now. But how long until you decide that what's best for the world isn't to inspire it, but to rule it? What do us mere mortals do then? I'll tell you what we do, we fight back with everything we have."

Waller stood defiant, unmoved by the presence of Superman. The metahuman war had caused a lot of damage. But even as Waller watched Cadmus get out of control and almost destroy everything, it only served to affirm her belief that metahumans were a threat, whatever side they were on.

"Luthor funded you. Your projects, your research facilities, it all came from his pockets. You must have some clue where he is. Tell me!" Superman ordered, trying to project as much authority as possible.

"You know, if you want to intimidate me, perhaps you should call in your friend from Gotham. He looks a lot meaner than you."

"I don't have time for games..."

"Neither do I! You want Lex Luthor? I don't know where he is. Do you think Cadmus was the only thing he had his dirty hands in? As soon as I was told what Lex had done, I locked down every facility we have, including the ones you and your little band don't know about. But Lex Luthor isn't a man to put all his eggs in one basket, if you'll pardon the cliché. His accounts have been frozen, his assets seized...but one thing I know about Lex is that not only is he the richest man in the world, the fortune we know about isn't even half of what he's really worth. He's got resources scattered all over the country, probably even the world. Lex Luthor is a man who likes to be prepared. He's a bigger boy scout than you are...in that regard at least. He doesn't need me."

"And I'm supposed to believe you?" Superman asked, unimpressed.

"Believe whatever you want. As far as I'm concerned, Lex Luthor is a traitor. The sooner someone takes him out, the better. I'm a patriot, blue boy. Lex may only care about himself but everything I've done is for the good of this country. He tried to destroy Metropolis. That makes him a dead man as far as I'm concerned. Now get me down off this roof. I've got ice cream in here and it's going to melt."

As Waller talked, Superman had studied her. He looked for subtle movements of her eyes, muscle twitches that would give a way a lie. He listened to her heart rate, her breathing. Waller was probably clever enough to fool a lie detector, she might even be able to fool Batman. For his part, Superman could find no deception. She didn't like him. That much was clear. But she didn't appear to be lying.

When Superman descended from the rooftop with Waller, allowing her feet to touch solid ground, he knew he was out of leads. Wherever Lex was, he wasn't going to be found.

"You know, you look a little pale," Waller commented. "Getting enough sun?"

"If he gets in contact..." Superman suggested, ignoring the comment and focusing on his agenda.

"I'll tell my superiors, Not you...though I'm sure you'll be listening in. He won't though. He's too smart for that. I used to think that you were the biggest threat to the world. But right now, I think it's him."

"That's why I have to find him."

"You won't. But we both know what his end game is. It's you. It's always been you. He'll be coming for you and you'd better be ready. For all our sakes."

* * *

It was the largest door Professor Vale had ever seen. Hidden behind a wall of rock, the door lead to a complex deep within the Colorado Rockies. It was a place nobody would look because nobody knew it existed. Built over the course of almost two decades, using almost a thousand different contractors, none of whom knew exactly what they were working on, the complex was built as a last resort. Lex called it Failsafe One. While the rise of metahumans had been a relatively recent event, Lex knew of the existence of aliens since he was a child. A chance encounter with a piece of alien technology had caused his hair to fall out when he was just twelve years old. Rather than being traumatised, Lex was inspired. The technology was far beyond his understanding but he was determined to one day discover its secrets. His vast intelligence wouldn't be wasted in the slums of Metropolis. He would build a world in his image.

But the encounter, while inspirational, also warned him of the dangers that existed in the universe. At sixteen, Lex developed an algorithm for calculating the likely outcomes in large scale warfare. While the CIA acquired his algorithm for a hefty sum in order to project the likely outcomes of terrestrial conflicts, Luthor used it to try to discover what might happen should an alien force decide to wage war on our planet. The results inspired him to conceive of Failsafe One but it wasn't until the first reported metahuman activity that he decided to turn that idea into a reality.

But Failsafe One wasn't built to save humanity. It was built to save only him. From beneath the colossal mountains, he would be sustained with food to last a lifetime, enough equipment to continue his endeavors in secret and protect him from outside threats. But when Lex found himself in a world of metahumans and alien threats, the futility of his attempts to save himself from such inconceivable power dawned on him and he abandoned the project. Failsafe One wouldn't save him, but it would hide him until he was ready to reveal himself to the world once more and finally complete his legacy.

Professor Vale's hands were tied as he followed Lex into the complex while Otis walked behind them both, FBI bags in hand, making sure that Vale kept moving forward. What he saw astounded him. A medical facility on his left, laboratories on his right, an expansive and luxurious living area and vast stores of food, chemicals and materials. Geneticists and rocket scientists would be equally at home here. "You built this?"

"Now we can work away from the prying eyes of those who would betray us, Professor," Lex replied with a superior tone as they approached a huge control room, containing dozens of monitors hooked up to a communications and computational array, the likes of which Professor Vale had never seen.

"You said we were going to fix you."

"Indeed I did. You've always strived to be on the cutting edge of medical science. Now's your chance to discover the secret of immortality."

"Immortality?"

"Yes, Professor. You're going to make me a new body."

"I'm what?" Vale exclaimed.

"All in good time Professor, all in good time. But first, we have a puzzle to solve," Lex replied cryptically as he sat at a control station and booted up the system. In moments, every screen in the room came to life.

"What puzzle?"

"The greatest one of all. One I didn't know existed until now."

"You're not making sense."

"I'm talking about..." Lex stopped mid sentence, terrible pain causing him to hold his head and fall to the floor. Otis dropped the bags and opened one of them, taking out a dose of liquid kryptonite. Rushing to Lex's side, Otis placed the injector against the back of his neck and injected the kryptonite into his system.

Lex's whole body spasmed for over a minute before settling down. Professor Vale thought about making a run for it but the huge titanium door was sealed shut. He watched as Lex struggled to gain control of himself.

"You need to stop taking that Lex. You know what it's doing to your mind."

"But I'm already mad..." Lex replied with a smirk.

"Keep taking that and you won't be anything at all. Just an empty husk waiting to die."

Instead of responding, Lex gave himself a moment to regain his focus and with Otis' help, sat back up in the chair at the control station. "Now then, where was I? Ah yes. Metropolis."

"Metropolis?"

"He's always in Metropolis."

"Who is?" Vale asked. "Superman? Lex, your obsession with him and with kryptonite...look what it's done to you. You have to let it go. Make peace. You don't have long."

"Let it go? LET IT GO?"

Vale recoiled in fear as Lex threatened to slip into madness. "Lex..."

Composing himself, Lex took a breath and smiled a wicked smile. "Apologies Professor. But I can't let it go. Not now that I finally understand. When I launched that missile, I took a gamble. I gambled that Superman would be there, unaware of what would fall on him. Mercy made sure that didn't happen, but he was there. I was right about that. He's been around the world but more often than not, he shows up in Metropolis. Why? What's so special about that city? I used to think it was me. I was there so he felt he had to be as well. It makes sense. I am the biggest threat to him after all.

"With the biggest ego..." Vale replied before he could stop himself. A stern glare from Otis caused him to worry but Lex just seemed to laugh it off.

"It's true. But my ego has blinded me all these years. I see that now. He wasn't there for me, he was there for them. I always believed that Superman saw himself as a god, interfering when and where he saw fit, simply because he could. Because they would worship him as their saviour. But the thing about gods is that you might desire their love but you also fear their wrath. Not him though. Over all these years he has never turned on those he claims to protect. His wrath has been aimed only towards those who would destroy the people of the world. But even his enemies were spared death. The truth is, he cares. He really does care about the human race."

"He's Superman..." Vale replied, stating the obvious.

"Yes, yes he is. But don't you see? His power is vast. He can look down on the world and make it a better place. He can put a stop to our violent natures, end our wars. He is superior, with a superior morality. At least that's how he should be. An alien being with his power, looking down on a primitive world with mercy and love should want to make everything better. But he's not looking down on us, he's looking up, with us."

"Looking up?" Otis asked as he tried to follow Lex's line of thought.

"Yes, Otis. We look to the sky and dream. So does he. He's not trying to protect humanity from itself, he's a part of humanity. He's one of us."

"Lex, Superman is an alien from the planet Krypton. Everyone knows that." Vale stated, displaying the same sense of authority on the subject of a school child reading a book report in class.

"He was born on Krypton, yes. But Krypton exploded. He came here as a survivor. And then what...? He wandered for a bit? Observed us? Then decided to try to help people?"

"Yes. We all know the story. Superman saw potential in humanity and decided to use his powers to set an example for the world and inspire us to do great things."

"And that's never bothered you Professor? That he cares so much about this backwards little planet? No. He cares because he's been a part of the human race. He's walked among us, as one of us. You can't be Superman all the time. You spend every moment of every day doing what he does. And he doesn't. We know that. He's not at every disaster. Every crime. So what does he do when he's not being Superman? He lives as a human being. That's how he stays connected. That's why he fights so hard against Brainiac and Darkseid...against me. He sees himself as one of us. A human being."

"That's nonsense. Superman doesn't wear a mask. If he was walking around as an ordinary guy, people would recognise him."

"Maybe. You're probably right. It makes no sense. He'd have to disguise himself somehow. But supposed he did. Suppose he found a way to hide in plain sight. Be a human being and when something really bad happens, become Superman. Batman has a mask, the Flash has a mask. What if Superman's mask is his human face?"

Even though Vale was a prisoner, he found himself getting drawn into Lex's wild speculation. "Say you're right Lex. Say he walks among us as a human being. What does that look like? Does he have friends? Does he have a job? A wife? Kids? How far does it go?"

"Maybe all of the above. But he's always in Metropolis, right? It's not because of me, it's because he lives there. Metropolis is his home."

"OK...so what's the narrative? His home world is destroyed, he survives and comes to Earth, wanders for a bit and settles in Metropolis. He tries to fit in, starts to feel accepted as a human being and decides to use his alien powers to save people?"

"It's a sound theory Professor."

"Ok, let's assume you're right...let's assume he's there, living as a human...that's nine million people. Even if we eliminate children and women...can we eliminate women? What if, in his secret human identity, Superman is a woman?"

"Don't be ridiculous Professor."

"It's no more ridiculous than what you're suggesting. Even if you just take the men with a similar build, hair and eye colour, that's still a lot of people."

"We just have to narrow the parameters then. Let's look at this logically. You're the strongest man in the world, living an ordinary life. Hiding in plain sight? What do you do?"

"Try not to be strong..." Otis commented, prompting a raised eyebrow from Professor Vale and a nod of approval from Lex.

"Exactly. If you're Superman, then as a human being, you should be an ordinary man. A guy you wouldn't look at twice. There's nothing special about you. You're not strong, you're not fast, people forget your face. He doesn't work in manual labour."

"That's quite a stretch, Lex." Vale replied, unconvinced.

"Maybe. But if I was Superman, I would do everything possible not to show off my skills. No heavy lifting, in fact I'd probably have an office job."

"Why not retail?"

"No...if he worked retail he couldn't leave whenever there was trouble without being noticed."

"Isn't the same true of an office job?"

Lex pondered the question. He felt as if he was beginning to piece together a mystery he never knew existed. It was all speculation, a whole lot of guess work and assumptions without a solid foundation. But as Luthor's brain struggled in the fight between rational thought and madness, the world seemed to be opening up to him in a way he couldn't have conceived of before.

"No, you're right. He needs a job where he can come and go as he pleases."

"Why does he need a job at all? Maybe he just hangs out in coffee shops all day."

"No, if he's ordinary then he has a job. But what kind of job would allow him to come and go without getting fired? He could work from home but that would leave him disconnected. He might own a store but that kind of paper trail would leave him open to background checks. Maybe I am nuts."

"You can still turn yourself in."

"Shut up Professor." Lex responded, getting more frustrated by the second. He was convinced that Superman was living as a human being, but there were too many missing pieces to figure out who. Trying to put it out of his head, Lex found himself at the keyboard, pointing the web browser in the computer system towards the Daily Planet website. "Let's see what they're saying about me now."

Lex read through the story on the front page of the digital edition, outlining the manhunt for his capture. Professor Vale stood over his shoulder, reading the same article. "They'll find you eventually."

"It won't matter, not when you're done with my new body."

"New body? Lex I don't think you understand..."

"You rebuilt John Corben. By the time you were done, you had effectively replaced everything in his body with cybernetics."

"Corben's brain was intact and healthy. Yours isn't. Even if I could do what you're asking, you'll still die. The cybernetics won't cure the cancer in your brain. It will rot away and instead of dying in a shell made of flesh and bone, you'll die in one made of metal."

"I'm going to tell you a story, Professor. When you were on trial for your role in the Metallo project, a trial I helped you win by the way, I found another young scientist working at STAR Labs. He was a big fan of your work in robotics. But merely augmenting a human body with cybernetics was of no interest to him. He believed he could create a synthetic body from scratch, a body capable of adapting to any situation with a synthetic brain as complex and intricate as a human brain. He worked tirelessly to create a fully synthetic being, capable of independent thought with the ability to learn and to grow and comprehend. A true artificial intelligence. He succeeded.

"You're talking about Professor Ivo..."

"Indeed I am. But Ivo's android wasn't cybernetics. It was nanotechnology, capable of reacting and adapting. Ivo explained it as synthetic DNA. Rather than a simple metal shell, the android was composed of countless nanobots, capable of rearranging themselves to simulate real genetic traits. He referred to it as Artificial Molecular Adaptation, or A.M.A. But when Ivo activated the A.M.A, android, he was stunned that A.M.A. Could not only adapt to his environment but also rearrange it's synthetic structure to take on the traits of other beings and in the case of metahumans, their powers."

"Amazo..."

"Indeed. Professor Ivo expanded his designation of the android when he saw that it had gone beyond his original intention and become something entirely unexpected. Amazo was amazing. But Amazo's desire to learn and absorb traits of metahumans made it dangerous and unstable. Professor Ivo realised that a synthetic mind, without the nuance of human experience and millions of years of evolution was dangerous. The obvious step was to transfer human consciousness to a synthetic body. Unfortunately, Professor Ivo was killed by his own creation before he could attempt the next phase. You are going to complete his work."

"Me?"

"Yes, Professor. You. You kept Corben's brain active when you shut his body down. You know more about the human brain than anyone I know. Professor's Ivo's notes and equipment are all here in this complex. You'll make history. You will build a body for my mind, my consciousness. A mind free of disease and mortality. The ability to take on genetic traits will be most beneficial against Superman.

"That's crazy. I don't know how to replicate Ivo's work and even if I could, transferring consciousness to a machine may not be possible."

"I have full confidence in you. But if you require added incentive, know this - it is not just my life that's at stake."

The threat was unmistakable. If Vale failed he'd end up dead. Even if he succeeded, he'd likely meet the same fate but he knew he had to gamble, he had to do what Lex wanted. He didn't know how he'd do it, but he'd need to try. As his mind tried to find its way to a possible solution, Vale was pulled out of his thoughts by the voice of the brute, Otis.

"He's a journalist."

"What?" Lex asked, turning to find Otis sitting at a control station, browsing articles written by Lois Lane about Superman.

"Superman. He's a journalist."

"Did you miss the part where we moved on to an entirely different conversation?" Vale asked, forgetting for a moment that he was a prisoner.

"I don't go in for that science stuff." Otis replied.

"I'm sure you don't."

Vale's sarcastic response prompted Otis to ball his hand into a fist. Sensing Otis' anger, Lex moved to calm the situation. "Otis, tell me what you're thinking."

"That I want to wring his neck."

"About Superman."

"While you two were going on about your robots, I got to thinking that maybe Superman as a human being doesn't just have a job that makes him seem ordinary, he has one that helps him be Superman. He ain't a firefighter, or a cop or a builder or a politician. He's a journalist. A reporter."

"On television?" Vale asked, feigning interest.

"No, not on television, stupid. A newspaper. This newspaper." Otis said confidently, pointing at the digital Daily Planet on the screen.

"The Daily Planet? That's absurd."

Unlike Vale, Lex had a different view. "Otis, you're a genius."

"Thank you Mr. Luthor."

"You're actually listening to him?" a perplexed Vale asked.

"Think about it Professor. What does Superman need to be him? Information. The bullpen of a major newspaper is the perfect place to be for breaking news on worldwide disasters."

"Lex, we live in an era of 24 hour news and bloggers. Newspapers are obsolete."

"They still have some of the best sources in the business. He may not be a journalist, but he could certainly work there. But the Daily Planet? Now that's interesting."

"Why?"

"Lois Lane," Otis interjected. "She writes all those stories about Superman. Maybe she knows who he is."

"And if she doesn't, "Lex added, "maybe he knows who she is. Otis, pull up her profile."

"Right away Mr. Luthor." Otis replied before pulling up her bio on the Planet's website.

"Let's see...Pulitzer Prize winner, daughter of General Lane, married to Clark Kent..."

"Who?" Vale asked.

"Kent...he's uh...he's another reporter, a pain in my ass just like his wife but nobody worth remembering."

"Like your mystery man?" Vale offered.

"Huh...yeah. Otis pull up Mr. Kent's profile."

They waited for the page to load. Accompanying the profile was a photograph of Clark Kent. The three of them studied it closely, looking for any clues that would lead them to Superman.

"Let's see, born June 18th... Smallville, Kansas...played high school football...studied journalism at Met U...this guy's no Superman." Lex declared. "He's a farm boy. Look, there's a link to his old school paper. This guy has been on planet Earth all his life. How he scored Lois Lane, I'll never know. But he's definitely not Superman."

"Yeah," Otis added, "he doesn't even look like Superman."

"Maybe we're looking at this all wrong. The real question is, which happened first? Superman or ordinary human being? Superman's first appearance was over ten years ago on February 29th. Lex thought back to that day. To Air Force One. Superman appeared from nowhere to help the troubled jet as it fell out of the sky. In the end it was placed neatly on the Metropolis freeway. "February 29th. That's when Superman first appeared. Who was working at the Daily Planet back then? Who'd just started?"

Otis inputted the search parameters as Lex called them out. Upon hitting Enter, the screen was filled with six profiles. Two women, four men.

"OK let's see...well we can eliminate the women. That leaves four guys. Kent's been there for four months, I don't think Superman would have waited that long and we've ruled him out already. James Olsen was working there a month, but he's far too young. That leaves Moore and Morrison."

"You think it's one of them?"

"Well Moore's old and fat, it says here he used to work at the Gotham Gazette, Morrison looks about the right age, he has the right build but he started working there the week after the Air Force One event."

"So?" a confused Vale asked.

"So nobody knew. I read the transcripts of the inquiry cover to cover. Every detail from the altitude the plane was at when Superman intervened to who called their loved ones is etched in my memory. One call was made to the Daily Planet. Lois Lane called her editor. The Planet was the first news outlet to know that the plane was experiencing a massive failure. Now either Superman was at the Planet and heard that call or he just happened to be flying by when the plane started to fall from the sky. That's a hell of a coincidence, one I was never inclined to believe. I often wondered if he caused the failure himself so he could play the hero. But if he heard the call to the Daily Planet, it couldn't have been Morrison."

"So it's back to square one," Vale confirmed. "Or maybe you should give up this pointless crusade to find a needle in a haystack."

"The answer is there somewhere. Maybe we should start looking at the women."

"What about the miracles?" Otis offered.

"The what?" Vale asked.

"The miracles. The Metropolis miracles. Before Superman, all those stories about babies falling from top floor apartments and surviving without a scratch, road accidents that were somehow devoid of collision when one car seemed to float over the other...the miracles."

"Tabloid trash," dismissed Vale.

"No doubt," Lex agreed. "But it doesn't mean the stories aren't true. How far back to they go, Otis?"

"The first one I can find is in the Globe, three months before Superman appeared."

"How do you even know about this stuff?' Vale asked.

"I like to read." Otis replied.

"That surprises me."

"I also like to hit people."

"Point taken."

"It makes sense," Luthor commented to himself as he tried to work things out in his head. "Air Force One wasn't his first rescue, it was only the first time he showed himself."

"Yeah but Mr. Luthor, even then nobody started working at the Planet that week. Kent's the closest but we know it's not him." Otis said, immediately noticing the dismay in Lex's face. "Maybe it ain't the Planet. Or maybe the exact date ain't important. Maybe it is this Morrison guy."

"Or maybe you're both delusional." Vale opined.

"No, the date is important," Lex stated as he struggled to keep his thoughts together. "The date is significant, it marks history...it's the date...the date...what's the date?"

"Today?" Vale asked cautiously, aware of Lex becoming more erratic.

"No, not today. Him...Kent...his date of birth...June?"

"Uh, let me check." Otis pulled up Clark Kent's profile once again. Before he could call out Kent's date of birth,Lex leaned forward to read it for himself.

"Clark Kent...Smallville...here...born June 18th, 19...no. It can't be right."

"What is it, Mr. Luthor?" Otis asked.

"That's...that's the day my hand was burned. It's the day I lost my hair. It's the day I knew for sure that aliens existed, the day I first discovered kryptonite. That day changed everything for me. It couldn't be him. Could it? Clark Kent? No."

"Of course it's not," Vale intervened as he tried to type on the keyboard with his hands tied. "You can Google him. This isn't a guy trying to hide in plain sight. This is a guy who's had a full life. He didn't just live here, he grew up here."

"You're right. It can't be him. It's a coincidence, that's all. He would have been a child...an infant. That makes no...that makes no sense unless..."

"Unless...?"

"The story of Superman. Krypton was dying. Kal-El's parents were scientists, they built a ship to come here but they died there. So he came here...no...that's not right, they sent him. Their son. Their infant son."

"Mr. Luthor?"

"Bear with me Otis, I'm having a eureka moment. He didn't come here to survive, he was sent here to survive. The letter published in the Daily Planet, written by Superman...I have an eidetic memory and I remember that letter. It says he was sent here to survive but his parents and everyone else died on Krypton."

"So?" a bewildered Professor Vale asked, pretty sure that the rambling was an effect of the liquid kryptonite.

"So...what if he was an infant? Think about it. His parents are scientists, right? They build a star ship that only seats one - their son. They don't know what's going to happen, they set it on autopilot and hope for the best. The ship enters our solar system and something goes wrong. Bits and pieces start to break off. Bits of it land in Metropolis where it's found by a young red-haired genius. The ship crashes...Smallville...never heard of it. His profile says he grew up on a farm...a small farm, outside a small town in the middle of nowhere, Kansas. The Kents, they find the infant. They don't see an alien, they see a baby. A baby that needs to be taken care of and before they know it, they've grown too attached to call the authorities. So they keep it."

"To say that's a stretch would be an understatement."

"I agree Professor, but look at the big picture. He's raised as a human being. That's his connection. That's why he cares. He thinks, he feels, he acts human. Growing up on a farm, it's a simple life with simple concepts of right and wrong. But he knows very little about the world and that's where the story we already know kicks in. He travels, he observes, he decides to use his powers to become a superhero. He becomes a journalist to get close to the story and marries the one person on the planet who can claim to know Superman."

"But they don't even look alike," Vale objected. "You're making a lot of assumptions and the guy you're talking about looks nothing like Superman."

"You're right. I've talked to Kent. I've seen him in person. His posture is different, his attitude...Superman speaks when he has something to say but Kent never shuts up. And it's true, they have different faces. The eyes in particular are very different, especially with the..."

"The what?" Otis asked.

"With...the glasses. It's weird. I look at this picture of Kent and I'm immediately drawn to them, like the rest of his face doesn't matter...hiding in plain sight."

"Wait," Vale interjected, "you actually think this guy is..."

"Do I think...am I sure...? No. But I feel...it feels right somehow. It's obvious, really. It all clicks, it all makes sense. It's just that because Superman doesn't wear a mask, nobody has ever bothered to look. But the more I think about it, the more it makes sense. Clark Kent is Superman."

There was a moment of silence in the room as all three men pondered the statement. It seemed impossible. Even if it were true, there was no proof. It was all just speculation. Lex was making a wild guess and he knew that. He knew that with his brain being eaten away by cancer and kryptonite, he could just be making connections that weren't really there. But the more he thought about it, the more he realised that he had ever been so sure of something in his life.

"Otis, untie the Professor's hands, then fill up the car. We're going on a road trip."

"Yes sir, Mr. Luthor."

"We are?" Vale asked.

"Not you. You have work to do."

"I told you, I can't build you a new body, let alone transfer your mind into one."

"You'll do it Professor. I have full confidence in you. There's plenty of food here and the door only opens with my command, so don't try to escape. This communications centre also needs an access code, one I'm not giving you so calling for help is also out. Concentrate on your work and your part will soon be over."

"And where are you going?"

"Me? Why to Kansas of course."


	6. No Secrets Between Enemies

**CHAPTER SIX**

**No Secrets Between Enemies**

He floated high above the city of Metropolis, eyes closed, ears open. Millions of voices passed through his senses. His brain worked tirelessly to work through them, listening for specific phrases, high stress in each voice while drowning out the ambient sounds of the city. The sound of sirens alerted him to look west. An ambulance was speeding towards the hospital. Traffic was moving aside to let it passed. Superman peered closer, through glass and metal to the patient inside. The patient was in bad condition but stable. An alarm drew his gaze south. It was coming from a house. A burglary perhaps. A closer look proved otherwise. Just a family coming home, forgetting to input their code in time. Still, there was something further to the south, beyond the house. Superman concentrated on the background noise, Footsteps. Two sets. Both moving fast. They were running. He focused his eyes to look through the steel and concrete blocking his path. A woman in heels rushed around a corner, lost in the back streets of the slums. A man followed. There was something in his hand. A knife.

"Help me! Somebody please...!"

The woman's voice was clear. Perhaps clearer than it should have been at this distance. Superman didn't miss a beat. In an instant he was thrusting himself forward, cutting through the air at speed and descending into the city. To the world below, he was just a blur. He was over the slums in seconds and dropped down rapidly, just as the assailant moved to stab his victim. The knife shattered against skin. Stunned, the thug followed the line of the now broken blade to the hand it came up against. His eyes travelled up the blue-sleeved arm, across the shoulders to the large symbol recognised all over the world. He didn't dare look at the face of the man who had prevented him from stabbing the woman.

"Are you alright, miss?" asked Superman, his gentle tone conflicting with the strength contained within him.

"I'm...I'm fine. Thank you Superman. Thank you so much," the frightened lady responded, allowing herself to calm her breathing.

For his part, the knife-wielding thug remained motionless. There was no point in running. He knew that. Running would only make things worse. There were still successful crimes in Metropolis of course. Superman couldn't be everywhere at once. Whether a criminal would succeed could depend on careful timing, creating distractions or even pure luck. It wasn't a lucky day for this criminal.

"There's a police officer just around that corner, Miss," Superman informed the woman as he scanned the area. "If you'd like to go and get him, we can make sure this man doesn't hurt anyone else," he continued, reassuring her with a soft smile.

The woman complied, moving quickly to retrieve the officer and leaving Superman alone with the thug. The thug found himself volunteering to sit down on the ground, such was the respect and awe he felt for the man who had captured him. If it had been a cop, he'd have run or fought back. But you don't fight back against Superman.

"Tell me something..." said Superman, surprising the thug, continuing; "Why try it? Why take the risk?"

"It wasn't planned," the thug conceded. "I saw a pretty lady on her own in the slums and I guess it was impulsive. I wasn't thinking about you showing up."

"No. Your kind never seems to do any thinking."

"Besides, we all saw you get dosed with that kryptonite. I figured that maybe you'd be out of commission for a while."

"You figured wrong," Superman replied sternly, lifting the thug to his feet as the woman returned with a police officer.

With the thug taken into custody, Superman eased himself into the air and pushed his body high up into the sky, making his way to the top of the world once more. The thug had a point. After his battle with Metallo, it had taken days for the effects of the kryptonite to completely disappear. By all rights, the kryptonite nuke should have killed him. But it hadn't. If anything, he felt stronger. Something strange was definitely going on. The woman's voice was crystal clear to him but the Slums had been on the other side of the city. Even with his enhanced hearing, he shouldn't have been able to hear her cries for help, at least not so clearly.

For a brief moment, Superman opened up all his senses and allowed a cacophony of sound and vision to wash over him. The entire city was laid out before him. But he could hear and see beyond, to Gotham City across the bay. He could even make out the faintest view of the Brooklyn Bridge in New York. He turned west, wondering if he could perhaps make out Kansas and his home. No such luck. But he was getting stronger, there was no doubt about it. He turned his attention back to Metropolis and listened, waiting for Lex Luthor to speak. Just one word. That's all it would take. He heard nothing. Wherever Lex was, he wasn't in Metropolis.

* * *

The knife sliced through skin, and slipped through to the other side. Then again and again. A quick flick of the wrist brought the knife down on the chopping board and slid the cut up tomato to one side. Then she started on another. If she looked out through the kitchen window, she would have seen the old dusty road leading into town, and behind it, cornfields that stretched to the horizon. It used to be all Kent land. Her husband sold most of it off when their son went off to college. They were getting older and without Clark around to work the farm, it was getting a lot harder. Still, Jonathan had made sure to keep some of the land immediately around the farm. Some crops could be grown and sold to a local distributor or directly at the Smallville market. Jonathan and Martha had saved enough to be comfortable in retirement but they were farmers. Working the land was in their blood.

When Jonathan died, Martha never considered selling up. Working the little bit of land they had left had kept her going and Clark came home every single year to plough the fields and help with the harvest. The Darkseid occupation had decimated crops for a couple of years. A deliberate exercise by the alien god to poison crops all over the world and force people to rely on him and ultimately give themselves over to his rule had done a lot of damage. But this year, the corn was growing high and free of poisons. There was one field that would never be harvested for market. The corn existed to hide a secret. One that the Kents had kept for decades.

As Martha brought a head of lettuce under the running water and began to wash, a cloud of dust out the window, way off in the distance caught her attention. The dust cloud was moving at speed along the road and as it grew closer, Martha was able to make out the source. It was definitely a car. She watched curiously as the car approached the open gate to the property and turned to drive in. She wasn't expecting visitors and she certainly didn't recognise the vehicle. An uneasy feeling in her stomach caused her to drop the lettuce into the sink and grip the handle of the knife. The car came to a stop just inside the gate. The driver's side door opened and a large man stepped out. He turned and spotted Martha looking out the window. He waved at her. He seemed friendly enough but Martha couldn't shake the feeling that something wasn't quite right. Tucking the knife into the back of her apron, Martha moved slowly towards the door and exited the house.

"Hello there," the man called to her. For her part, Martha moved cautiously towards him. With each step, she began to regret not taking the shotgun. The man showed no sign of aggression but the feeling in the pit of her stomach grew worse as she moved closer to him. She could now see a figure sitting in the back seat of the car but she couldn't make out his face.

"Can I help you?" Martha asked as she moved her right hand behind her back to check that the knife was still there.

"I hope so," the man replied, all smiles. "We're on our way to Kansas City and I'm afraid we've gotten kind of lost."

"Kansas City? That's on the other side of the state."

"Right. But we can't seem to find the main highway and our sat-nav doesn't seem to like us very much."

Martha studied the man closely. Now that she was closer and conversing with him, he didn't seem all that threatening. "I'm afraid you'll need to go back the way you came."

"To the town?"

"Yes. Smallville is a ways off the highway but you can get back on it if you drive through to the far side."

"Oh? Wow, I can't believe we missed it. Well, thank you very much, Mrs...uh..."

"Kent. It's no trouble, really."

The left sided back passenger door opened. A pair of expensive shoes hit the ground, immediately picking up dirt. The passenger lifted himself out of the car and adjusted his tie as he began to look around. Martha didn't recognise him at first but as he turned to face her, his face was unmistakable.

"You're a kind woman, Mrs. Kent. May I call you Martha?" the passenger asked.

"How do you know...President Luthor?"

"Not anymore. Otis, Martha looks a little pale. Perhaps you should make sure she doesn't faint."

"Right away, Mr. Luthor," Otis replied as he reached out to grab Martha by the arm.

Martha responded quickly, shrugging him off and revealing the knife hidden behind her back. She lashed out, slashing through Otis' suit and piercing his skin. Otis let out a sharp cry of anguish before retaliating and knocking the knife from her hand. He grabbed her and moved to strike her face.

"Otis, play nice." Luthor ordered, prompting Otis to refrain from hitting her.

"Yes, Mr. Luthor."

"Now, now Martha, that's no way to treat guests."

"What do you want?" she responded defiantly, trying to shake loose from Otis' grip.

"To know my enemy," Lex replied before reaching back into the car and pulling out a small device. Catching Martha's concerned look, Lex explained the device's purpose, relishing her reaction. "You see Martha, I know. I know exactly who you are and I know exactly who your son is. This little device is going to confirm my theory. It's nothing to be afraid of, it simply measures radiation. I get the feeling I'm going to find quite a bit on this quaint little farm."

Martha watched as Lex activated the device, the low clicking indicating the radiation levels. Lex did a sweep and found the radiation levels to be normal. With Otis following behind, forcing Martha along, Lex proceeded to test the radiation levels all around the farm until he came to the outer edge of a cornfield. The needle jumped. It wasn't a hugely significant number but it was enough to pique Lex's interest.

"This is it, isn't it? This is where his ship crashed."

"I don't know what you're talking about," Martha protested.

"Come now, I'm sure if I were to walk into this field, the little needle here would show more and more radiation. But I'm not looking for the crash site, I want to know where you kept it," Luthor said as he turned back towards the farm and began to walk towards the house.

"There's nothing here," claimed Martha as she looked over Lex's shoulder, trying to catch a glimpse of the Radiation Meter.

Lex ignored her as he continued to move towards the house. The reading appeared to spike for a moment before settling back to normal levels. Lex stopped in his tracks and began moving the Meter in different directions, trying to spot the origin of the spike. When he pointed it towards the barn, the needle jumped again. "Ah, providence."

With Otis maintaining a tight grip on Martha's arm, Lex led them towards the barn. Inside there appeared to be nothing out of the ordinary. Stalls that once housed a number of horses now contained old farming equipment and junk that obviously had some sentimental value to the Kents. A broken baseball bat, old books, many of them damaged. A rusted old bike that Lex suspected belong to a younger Clark Kent and countless other items. Indeed the barn itself was rundown with cobwebs littering the rafters. Lex searched the barn, paying constant attention to the needle. When the reading hit the maximum level on the Radiation Meter, Lex stopped. Looking around his immediate area, he found nothing out of the ordinary. Taking a step, the loud creaking of the wooden floorboard beneath his feet drew his attention.

"A trap door?" Lex asked. Martha didn't respond but her face gave him his answer. Sweeping away the straw around his feel, Lex found a bit of carpet that was obviously meant to hide something. Tossing it aside, he found what he was looking for. It was a door leading to a storm shelter underneath the barn. Unfortunately for Lex, it was locked. A heavy chain threaded through the handles and a large rusty padlock blocked his way. "The key!" Lex demanded, putting as much venom into his voice as he could.

"Go to hell," replied Martha as she once again tried to break free from Otis' grip.

"Otis. Unlock this."

Tossing Martha to the ground, Otis pulled out his gun and took aim at the lock. He squeezed the trigger. Once. Twice. The lock shattered and Martha found herself staring at the now unprotected door to the storm shelter. She knew what was down there. For his part, Lex thought he had a pretty good idea. As he reached down to pull the door up and open it out, Lex anticipated confirmation of his intelligence, proof that he had solved the unsolvable puzzle.

The first thing he came face to face with was a blast of stale air. It had been a long time since the storm shelter had been opened. Descending the steps, Lex made sure to check his Radiation Meter. The needle was going crazy. It wasn't an ordinary Geiger Counter. It had been tuned to respond to a specific kind of radiation. The same radiation signature given off by the mysterious objects he had found as a child.

Shelves along the side wall housed tools and emergency supplies. There were a few boxes on the floor, containing what must have been Clark's childhood toys. In the back of the shelter there was a large empty space. The floor and ceiling were black, as if they had suffered smoke damage. Lex surmised that the source of the radiation had likely caused the blackness. But whatever that source was, it wasn't amount of dust indicated that the shelter hadn't been opened in a long time.

Martha had just gotten back to her feet when Lex ascended the stairs. "Where is it?" he demanded to know.

"Where's what?" Martha asked, feigning ignorance. She knew exactly what he was talking about but she wasn't about to give anything away.

"You know what! His damn space ship!"

"Space ship? Did you not see the signs on the way here? This is Smallville, Mr. Luthor. Roswell's a few States south."

Luthor pressed his nails hard against his palm as he balled his hand into a fist. His anger was rising. But his anger wasn't towards the Kent woman. It was aimed at himself. Of course the space ship wasn't there. Of course Clark would have moved it. But where? Did Martha know? He looked her over. Even now, she stood defiant. She was his mother. She wouldn't betray him.

"We're done here." Lex commented as he walked beyond Martha and Otis towards the exit.

"Good. Get off my land," demanded Martha, prompting Lex to stop, an idea forming in his warped mind.

"Otis..."

"Yes, Mr. Luthor?"

"I think Mrs. Kent would enjoy sitting in the storm shelter for a while."

Otis took the hint and immediately grabbed Martha and began to force her towards the shelter. She tried to resist, ignoring the gun pressed into her side. Martha fought hard but Otis was much larger and much stronger than her. He didn't even bother to bring her down the steps. He just threw her through the shelter doors and watched as she fell to the bottom. As she hit the floor, Martha could feel her ankle twisting. When Otis closed the storm shelter doors, Martha was left in darkness, unable to stand.

In the barn above, Otis looked around and found a pitch fork. Sliding the handle through the handles, he effectively locked Martha inside. Lex watched and listened for Martha's cries for help. He heard nothing. She was certainly a tough old woman. But that didn't matter. He had hoped to find the space ship his enemy had used to get from the long dead Krypton to Earth. It wasn't here. Now he and Otis needed to escape before the boy scout showed up.

"We should go."

"Yes, Mr. Luthor."

Luthor began to walk out of the barn but stopped once again, spotting something out of the corner of his eye. Someday soon, he would confront Superman. For now he had to run and hide and prepare but their confrontation was inevitable. But for Lex, there was much more at stake than a simple showdown between the hero and his arch enemy. It wasn't enough to be out of Superman's reach until the opportune moment. Lex wanted to send a message. He wanted Superman to know that he knew the Man Of Steel's secrets and it didn't take kryptonite to hurt him. He looked at the gas cans for a moment, a malicious smile forming across his face.

"Burn it down!" Lex ordered, "the house too."

"And the woman?"

"Let her choke on the flames."

Grabbing the gas cans, Otis began to empty one out across the barn. In the storm shelter underneath his feet, Martha could smell the gasoline. She knew what was happening. She needed to move quickly. She couldn't walk. She couldn't escape. But the big brute had neglected to search her. Reaching into her pocket, she pulled out her cellphone. It was an old model with very little in the way of additional features but for Martha, a phone was a phone. Being anything else was pointless.

Clark's number was in her phone, but Martha could dial faster than she could search through the phonebook. Her fingers moved quickly over the keys and then straight to the call button. She put the phone to her ear and waited for the sound of a ringing phone. Nothing. She checked the screen. No signal.

"Damn!" she cursed as she moved the phone around, trying to pick up a signal. It had never occurred to Martha or Jonathan before today that the ship they had found their son in was giving off radiation or that the radiation hadn't completely dissipated when Clark moved the ship to the Arctic. But after Luthor had scanned the area, she wondered if this radiation was responsible for no signal being available on her phone.

Martha noticed a flickering light through the floorboards above her head, with smoke starting to come through the locked door. With her ankle swelling up, Martha crawled backwards through the storm shelter towards the back wall. It was starting to get hot. She had to try again.

* * *

Lois pressed the button. Blackened water began to pour out, into her mug. But as soon as it started to pour, it dried up. "Who used all the coffee?" Lois asked across the bullpen. Most of the other journalists, wrapped up in their own stories, ignored her.

"You know the rules, Lois. You empty the machine, you fill it back up." Jimmy Olsen replied as he looked up from his computer where he was uploading photographs.

"Isn't that your job, Jimmy?"

"Not for the last eight years."

"Right, yeah. You're a respectable member of the Planet."

"That I am," Jimmy affirmed with a smile.

"How do you even use this thing?" Lois asked as she stared at the various buttons.

"Really, Lois?" Clark offered, seemingly appearing from thin air. "All these years and you still don't know how to use the coffee machine?"

"I do. Press the button and coffee comes out. I don't need to know the mechanics."

"Well it might help if you..." Clark paused mid-sentence, the vibration from his phone drawing his attention. "Hold on."

He rushed to his desk and picked up his cellphone. His mother's name popped up on the screen. Pressing the answer button, Clark put the phone to his ear, surprised to hear from his mother. "Hello..." He waited. No answer. "Mom...?" Another pause. Still no response. He checked the phone to see that the call had ended. Deciding to call back, Clark waited for confirmation of the call going through. After a number of seconds with no connection, Clark cancelled the call.

"Something wrong?" Lois asked as she tried to figure out how to open the machine. "Does someone have a key or this?"

"Poor service." Clark replied.

"You're telling me. I'm sure there's meant to be a maintenance guy or something to take care of this."

"No, I mean the phone."

"I'm sure she'll call back."

"Yeah...it's just..."

Lois picked up on Clark's concerned tone immediately. "What is it?"

"Nothing, it's just...she never calls."

"She's your Mom."

"No I mean she doesn't call me. She knows I'm...you know. That's why I always call her. Sometimes she'll send a message but she never actually calls."

"You think there's something wrong?"

"No...I don't know. It's probably nothing," Clark replied, making sure to keep his voice down.

"Clark, you're a journalist, a really good one and...well, you know what you are. If your instincts are telling you something, trust them. Kansas isn't far, not for you. If it turns out to be nothing, well it's always good to visit your mother, right? Go. I'll cover for you with Perry."

Clark kissed his wife on her forehead before disappearing just as suddenly as he had appeared.

* * *

Smoke filled the storm shelter. Martha tried to keep low. Her swollen ankle was doing a great job of helping her do just that. It didn't matter much though. With each breath, she was taking more and more smoke into her lungs. The door to the barn above had burned away. Had Martha been able to see through the smoke and flames, she'd be able to see daylight. The roof was caving in. If the fire and smoke didn't kill her, the weight of the whole barn falling on her head surely would.

The whole shelter was soon engulfed in flame. The heat was immense but it wasn't what was affecting Martha the most. The flames had sucked the oxygen out of the shelter and she couldn't breathe. Whenever she tried, the black smoke filled her lungs. The strength began to leave her body, her eyes began to drop. Her brain seemed to be telling her to let them close. Just sleep and it will all be OK. Martha fought it. She fought hard. But letting herself sleep wasn't a choice anymore. Her mind and body was giving in. She didn't even register her coughs anymore. The fire may as well have been a warm blanket.

Her eyes closed just as a cool breeze washed across her face. When she opened her eyes again, she could see clouds. They were blurry, like they were out of focus For a moment she wondered if she had died but when she felt the rough ground on her back and a familiar voice calling out to her, she knew she was still alive. Allowing her eyes to move slightly, wincing at the stinging sensation, she made out a face looking down at her. After a few blinks, her vision became slightly more clear. For a split second, her son's face seemed like that of a stranger. Then she remembered. Her son is Superman.

Superman helped Martha to sit up, not bothered by the dust collecting on his cape. "Are you alright?"

"Cl...Superman?"

"It's alright, Mom. It's just us. What happened?"

Martha's memory failed her for a moment. She remembered the fire and the smoke. And a man. "The man..."

"Man?"

"The bald man..."

Superman knew. He didn't need to hear a name. He just knew. "Luthor!"

"He knows. Clark he knows who you are."

Martha looked at her son. She saw something in him she'd never seen. It wasn't just anger, it was contempt. "He did this to you? Where is he? Where did he go?"

"I don't know. He left me down there and then..." she trailed off as her eyes glanced towards the house, or what was left of it. Jonathan's father had built it and now it was a smoking husk, just like the barn. "The house."

Hearing the despair in his mother's voice, Superman allowed his rage to settle. "It's alright, Mom. It's alright. I can rebuild it. You're far more important than wood and stone."

Martha tried to stand but found her son urging her to stay down. "What is it?"

"Your ankle, Mom. It's not broken but there's a lot of swelling. You've also inhaled a lot of smoke. You'll be alright but there's an ambulance on the way." He paused to listen to the air. "I can hear the siren. It's a few minutes away."

"Clark, he wanted your space ship. How could he know?"

"I don't know, Mom. But he wanted me to know that he knew who I was. This is a message."

"A message?"

"He's telling me nobody's safe. He can't hurt me but he can hurt you. He can hurt Lois. He thinks he can threaten the people I care about. I'll show him otherwise."

"What are you going to do?"

"I don't know. But I have to find him."

* * *

_...The hunt for Lex Luthor took an interesting turn today when Superman himself was spotted flying high over Kansas. With no tornado warnings or major disasters reported in Kansas today, it begs the question as to why Superman was there. Some have speculated that Superman may have been searching for Luthor who has disappeared since he launched a nuclear warhead targeted at Metropolis and killed his Secret Service detail during a routine medical exam. The FBI has refused to comment on Superman's reasons for being in Kansas, stating only that the hunt for Luthor was nationwide..._

"So, he managed to get there after all," Lex commented as he sat in the back of the old station wagon.

"Do you think he got to her in time, Mr. Luthor?" Otis asked as he turned the car onto the interstate.

Lex found himself looking out the window, wondering if Superman was in the sky above, with glowing eyes ready to blast him into oblivion. "It doesn't matter. He knows how dangerous I am now. He knows there's no turning back. It's him or me."

"You're really going to fight him?"

"Yes, Otis. I think I am. Assuming of course that our professor friend was successful."

"Why not go after Lois Lane?"

"He'll be guarding her now. Her time will come, Otis. Don't worry about that. But I'm sick of hiding. I can think of a thousand ways to hurt Superman without ever having to be in the same room. But what I really want to do is look him in the eye and watch as he realises who beat him. Who brought him to his knees. I told you Otis, I'm going to take everything from him. His legacy, his life, even his name."

"What do you mean?"

"It's really quite simple Otis. Clark Kent is a superman. Lex Luthor will be _the_ Superman."


	7. By Any Other Name

**CHAPTER SEVEN**

**By Any Other Name**

_"Even if he survives the trip. Even if he doesn't fly into a star or crash into a cruel, cold ocean, he'll be alone, he'll be helpless."_

_"He'll be alive. Their sun will make him stronger than we can imagine. It's his only chance."_

He didn't understand the words. In truth, he didn't understand much of anything. After all, he was only a few weeks old. The faces looking down at him seemed familiar and they were comforting. But little Kal-El spent his waking our soaking up everything he laid his eyes on. There was no context, no reason. Just sounds and images. And yet, even in his developing brain, he felt that something wasn't quite right.

When the two faces disappeared beyond the closing space craft, Kal-El looked at the lights. He reached out to touch them, unaware of the gas filling the chamber. He tried to keep his eyes open, wanting to keep looking at the lights inside the chamber but as his eyes closed, somewhere in the back of his mind, he knew that the next time he opened them, he would see something new.

* * *

On city maps it was called The Simon Project. Longtime residents referred to it as Southside but for most people in the city of Metropolis, it was known as Suicide Slum. Given the name, it is unsurprising that the suicide rate here far exceeded that of any other district, not just in the city but along the entire east coast. Even Gotham couldn't boast such depressing numbers. Suicide Slum also had an alarming crime rate, with gang-related violence and murders happening daily. If you lived in the Slum you were either poor or a criminal, often both. There had been many attempts to renovate the area, the result of which stood as abandoned high-rises, used by drug dealers to peddle their wares and by street gangs looking to carve out territory.

It wasn't supposed to be that way. The Simon Project was the brainchild of Simon Lucas Luthor. The idea was to provide affordable housing to the impoverished and the rising immigrant population after World War II. The Luthor dynasty had helped build Metropolis and the Simon Project was to be Simon Luthor's mark on the city. But Simon was spending somebody else's money. The Wall Street Crash had devastated LuthorCorp. Simon found himself betting on long odds, making terrible investment in an attempt to turn his fortunes around. In twenty years, Simon, heir to a fortune, had thrown it all away. Obsessed with his legacy, Simon threw what money he had left into outlandish projects until his only option was to file for bankruptcy. But the lesson wasn't learned. Determined to secure his place in history, Simon took to borrowing large sums. Nobody with any legitimacy would touch him. Nobody would risk their own fortunes on a fool. So he turned to the mob. It was through them that he funded the Simon Project. The buildings went up but they lacked infrastructure. No schools, no hospitals, limited public transportation. The only people who lived there were those who couldn't live anywhere else. As Simon watched his final failure unfold, with angry moneylenders banging on his door, Simon disappeared. His body would be found a few months later, tied to a concrete block on the riverbed. Had he committed suicide? Had those he had borrowed from finally caught up with him? Nobody knew.

His wife and son were left to fend for themselves. Young Lionel Luthor grew up in Southside, in the heart of the Simon Project. He watched the crime rate go up, he saw the gangs moving in. It was a far cry from the luxury his parents and grandparents enjoyed in their childhoods. He survived his childhood and entered adulthood with a whiskey bottle in his hand and a chip on his shoulder. Lionel could never accept his status. He dreamed of restoring the fortune his father had lost but rather than work to pull his life out of the gutter, he spent his days drowning his sorrows and spouting foul abuse at anyone who crossed his path. A drunken one night stand with an art student from Metropolis University, Lillian Thorne, resulted in a son. Lillian's parents disowned her when they discovered her pregnancy and she and Lionel were married a few short weeks after their first meeting. They were happy for a while. Lionel put aside his demons and worked tirelessly to provide for his new wife and their son, Alexander.

It was apparent from an early age that Alexander was special. A highly intelligent child, teachers at his school encouraged Lionel and Lillian to send him to a private school where his gifts could be nurtured. It was expensive but in his son, Lionel saw an opportunity to get back what had been lost. When their second child, a daughter they named Lena, came along, the delicate balancing act in their finances came tumbling down. Alexander wasn't a gifted child to be nurtured anymore. In Lionel's eyes, he was just another mouth to feed and was bleeding the family dry. Lionel returned to the bottle. He would never be sober again. He would argue with Lillian from dusk until dawn, even striking her on a number of occasions. Afterwards he would apologise and swear never to do it again and Lillian would pretend to forgive him for the sake of her children. She had nowhere else to go, no family to turn to. Lena would cover her ears when her parents argued, hoping to block out the screams. But Alexander listened to every word. The cost of private school, the life insurance policy they couldn't afford. The drinking. The abuse. Alexander absorbed every bit of information he could. Nothing was irrelevant.

When he was nine years old, and Lena five, everything changed. It was Mother's Day and Alexander had decided to make breakfast for Lillian. Climbing out of bed early, he descended the stairs, being cautious not to wake up the whole house. Lionel had slept on the couch, empty beer cans on the floor, a burned out cigarette between his fingers. He could have burned the whole house down. But he didn't and young Alexander ignored him, focused on the task at hand.

When he entered his mother's room, tray in hand, he paused to look at Lillian, so peaceful in her bed. Times were tough in the Luthor house but Lillian always made time for Alexander, always made sure to embrace his gifts, no matter how much of a strain it put on their finances and everything else.

Alexander placed the tray down next to the bed and leaned over his mother to wake her from her slumber.

"Mom? Mom, it's time to get up."

She didn't stir. His gentle whispers not enough to rouse her. Moving his hand to her shoulder, Alexander attempted to gently shake her awake.

"I made you breakfast, Mom. Mom? Wake up. It's Mother's Day, see? I made you breakfast."

Her eyes remained closed. As Alexander continued to try to wake his mother, the early morning light failed to reveal how pale she was. It didn't occur to Alexander that she wasn't breathing or that her skin was ice cold.

"Mom? Come on. The food will get cold. Wake up, Mom. Mom, open your eyes."

Her eyes never opened again. It was Alexander's first real experience with death. His mother was in front of him, yet she wasn't. He crumbled onto the floor next to the bed. For three hours he remained seated on the floor, completely silent. For three hours, a nine-year-old boy contemplated death. By the time the bedroom door opened and Lionel stumbled in, the sun had already moved on from the window.

"Honey, I'm sorry about last night, I had a bit too much to...Alexander? What are you doing in here?"

Alexander greeted his father with contempt. He glared at his father with hatred in his eyes. He didn't know how or why, but he was convinced that Lionel had taken his mother from him. The coroner would later determine that her death was a suicide caused by an overdose of painkillers. But in Alexander's mind, it was murder.

When Lillian's parents filed for custody of Lena, Lionel didn't fight it. Alexander went with them as well for a while but he was an angry child, too angry for them to control. He soon ended up back home. Things were different. Lionel took him out of private school. When Alexander entered public school for the first time, he immediately became a target. He would be mocked for his red hair. Bullied daily. The abuse would continue at home as his father spent every possible moment making sure that Alexander knew how worthless he was. He would tell the child that he had been named for Alexander The Great but there was nothing great about him. He was a parasite, feeding off what little Lionel had left. But for all the abuse, Alexander always did his homework. He was always at the top of his class. There was nobody to nurture him, nobody to help him reach his potential. But Alexander didn't need help. He knew how smart he was. He knew that if he had to go through hell so he could one day get out of that house and prove to the world that a name isn't the only thing he had in common with the Greek conqueror, it was a price worth paying.

* * *

A bright flash against a backdrop of empty space. A hole in the fabric of reality. Through that hole, a small spacecraft emerged. It's engines propelled the ship forward at tremendous speed, rocketing it towards a small blue planet. Each calculation had been perfect, every course correction accounted for. The ship would fly through the solar system on a clear path that would bring it to the upper polar region of the planet. But nature doesn't always adhere to the calculations of a man now dead on the other side of the galaxy. It was a tiny event in the grand scheme of things. Two asteroids colliding in the vastness of eternity didn't mean much. It wasn't even much of a collision. The asteroids barely scraped together as they passed each other. But it was enough. Enough to alter their path. Enough to send one of the asteroids on a direct course to strike another head on. That collision was enough to send a spray of debris across the region. It was debris that would intercept the small space craft. Small pieces of rock crashing through the hull like bullets. The ship would try to compensate, seal off the breach. The damage was too extensive. A fuel leak in the engine would cause the interior of the ship to fill with lethal gas. Emergency procedures would need to be activated. The small life-pod would be separated. The ship as a whole would crash land at its destination but the life pod would veer off-course. Every calculation, every precise measurement was useless.

* * *

He planted his school bag on the kitchen counter and opened the fridge. A voice from the other room called out to him.

"Alexander? Get your old man a beer. In fact, bring the case."

Alexander frowned as he grabbed the case of beer and brought it to his father, sitting on the couch, feet up, a nonsense chat show on the tube.

"I've got my report card for you to sign," Alexander said as he tried to avoid looking at his father.

"And? How'd you do?" Lionel asked, feigning interest.

"Straight A's all semester."

"You want a medal or something? Leave it on the counter. I'll sign it later." He wouldn't. He'd forget about it as he always did. He'd drift off into a drunken sleep and wake up at noon the next day. Alexander would sign the report card himself. He'd figured out how to forge his father's signature when he was seven but back then he rarely had a need for it. Now, at fourteen, Alexander was essentially fending for himself. Lionel hadn't worked in years, content to sit back and claim disability for back spasms which never seemed to affect him while he sat on the couch drinking beer.

"Actually, Mrs. Morris wanted to know if you could maybe go to see her."

"Who?"

"Mrs. Morris. My physics teacher."

"Why? What did you do this time?" Lionel responded, a touch of anger in his voice.

"Nothing. There's a workshop being run by Professor Hamilton at Met U. She thinks it would be good for me to go."

"Oh? And how much would that cost me?"

"Not a thing. It's part of an outreach program. All expenses paid."

"Sure they are. Until they start hitting you up or donations or start talking about how poor little Alexander is so special that he should be in private school. Well you can forget it. And you can drop those after-school programs too. I want you to go down to Bibbo's bar and see about getting a job collecting glasses or whatever. It's about time you started bringing money in."

"Mom would have let me go."

"Your mother isn't here. Get used to it."

Alexander didn't know how to respond. Grabbing his school bag, he made for the door. He needed to get out of the house.

* * *

The old Metropolis rail yards had been built by the Luthors, long before the money dried up. Now they stood in ruin, abandoned for decades. Overturned railcars were allowed to rust and rot away, the tracks were barely visible beneath the blanket of weeds that had grown around them. This is where young Alexander came to think and to read. He had two books in his bag. One was about his favourite philosopher, Nietzsche. The other was The Origin Of Species, by Charles Darwin. Neither book was required reading in any of his classes. Alexander sat on a rotting tree stump, reading through Darwin's great work and pondering his own existence in comparison to his primate ancestors. Alexander knew he was special. As he grew older and the world conspired to deny him the kind of environment he needed to flourish, Alexander became more resolved to prove himself. He had decided that as soon as he turned sixteen he'd leave that house and his father behind. But that was still two years away.

Alexander read his book, occasionally letting his fingers move through his red hair as he tried to keep it slicked back and stop it curling back into it's natural, curled state. He heard the voices, familiar voices. Three people were approaching. They were in his class. They weren't very nice. Leading the trio was Bruno, the son of Jerry Mannheim, a low level loan shark. Lionel owed Jerry a lot of money, a fact that Bruno never neglected to bring up to young Alexander.

"Well, look what we have here. Little Alex Luthor. All on his own, playing in the dirt." As he spoke, Bruno pushed Alexander off the tree stump, onto the ground. The book fell from his hands. One of the other bullies picked it up and handed it to Bruno. "What is this? Origin of Species? Trying to show us regular people up again Alexander? Trying to make us look bad? If you're so smart, how come your dad is such a bum?"

Alexander tried to ignore them as he got to his feet. He was outnumbered, three to one. If it came down to a fight, he'd lose. It was then that he remembered the only piece of advice his father ever gave him that was worth a damn.

_You gotta stand up to them. You don't run away. You fight. You earn their respect. Even if you get the crap beaten out of you, and you will, you'll gain respect. But if you want to actually win, go for the leader. Kick him in the balls, do whatever it takes. Take him down. Make your biggest enemy fear you and everyone else will too. _

"Hey Alexander. What's with the book?" Bruno asked, laughing to his friends as he did so.

Alexander had to decide. He could go straight for Bruno. The other two might jump him and even if they didn't Bruno was a big guy for his age. Still, if he was going down, he wasn't going down without a fight.

"It's about evolution," he explained. "It means we all come from apes.

"What are you trying to say? You saying I'm a monkey?"

"No, monkeys have tails. I'm saying you're an ape. A fat, hairy ape."

"Did you just...? Oh you're dead, Luthor. You're so dead right now."

Bruno moved in to strike. Alexander had to think quickly. "Hold on, I've got another book in here that explains it."

A confused Bruno watched as Alexander rushed to his bag and began to rummage through it. He pulled out the book on Nietzsche. It was heavy. A hardback copy, larger and heavier than the Darwin book. He knew what to do. The other two bullies were stunned when Alexander swung the book around, striking Bruno across the jaw. Bruno was numb for a second, dropping the Darwin book on the ground. Alexander didn't wait for the retaliation. He pounced on Bruno, dragging him to the ground. He threw wild, untrained punches. There was no power behind them but by shifting his weight for leverage, there was no way Bruno was giving up. At least until his two friends dragged Alexander off. They pulled him to his feet and held on to him. Bruno stood, gingerly at first. Alexander was now at his mercy. With a ruthless grin, Bruno thrust his fist hard into Lex's abdomen. It wouldn't be the last punch thrown.

* * *

The life pod fell towards the planet. Intense heat threatened to melt through the outer shell but the small ship survived. As it broke through the upper atmosphere, it continued its rapid descent, plunging head first towards the ground far below. The distance between the life pod and the ground shortened rapidly. It wasn't slowing down, there was no landing procedure, this was a crash. It flew over endless fields of corn at unimaginable speed. A collision alert prompted the automated systems to deploy parachutes to slow it down. It wasn't enough. The life pod crashed hard into a cornfield, causing the ground to shake and the entire field to disintegrate into ash. All that remained as a large crater where the corn had been. The shockwave from the crash spread out a couple of miles. Not too far away, a vehicle swerved into a ditch. The occupants emerged, scratched and bruised but otherwise unharmed. Their gaze turned towards the field and the unknown treasure hidden behind the dust and smoke.

* * *

Torn pages caught the breeze and scattered across the rail yard. A bloody nose, a black eye and bruised ribs were all Alexander had to show for his efforts. He knelt on the ground, picking up the pieces of the books that had been ripped apart by Bruno and his cohorts. They were long gone, content to leave Alexander clutching his chest on the ground. He didn't cry. He didn't allow the pain to overwhelm him. Once they were gone, he had set about collecting the pages. Every movement was agony but it didn't matter. He would endure.

The sun was beginning to set over Metropolis by the time Alexander had gathered all the pieces and stuffed them into his bag. He would have simply turned towards the hole in the fence and gone home had it not been for the brief flash of light to the north that drew his gaze. He watched, mesmerized as another flash of light gave way to what looked like the tails of comets heading towards him in the sky. Unable or unwilling to move, Alexander stared at the objects ad watched their descent. His brain began running calculations, his eyes studied the angle of their approach. They were going to crash alright.

Alexander grabbed his bag and began to run. Every step caused pain to spread out from his ribs. He ignored it as best he could. When he climbed over the north side fence, the strain on his chest was immense but he wouldn't be deterred. By the time he reached the industrial park on the north side of the Slum, the pain was long forgotten. Adrenaline was pushing him forward. Four small craters spread out across the parking lot in the industrial park. Alexander moved quickly to the nearest one. There was a little smoke and some heat but nothing he couldn't handle. Peering down for a closer look, Alexander noticed a small piece of rock in the centre of the crater. He looked at it closely. It was green like jade but dirty and dull. He moved to pick it up but hesitated for a moment. His hand was close to the rough surface but there was no sensation of heat.

Gritting his teeth, Alexander picked up the rock. There was no pain. He studied it closely for a moment and then shoved it into his bag. He moved quickly to the next crater, where another green rock awaited, and the next. It was when he reached the final crater, larger than the other three, that everything changed.

At first, Alexander could see nothing. Just an empty crater. But as the setting sun broke through the clouds for a moment, Alexander watched as something seemed to shimmer in the crater. It was as if light was bending around something, making it practically invisible. He reached out with his hand, hoping to feel something solid. What he felt first was immense pain. He pulled away immediately and screamed to the heavens. It was like someone had put his hand in a fire.

His whole body began to react. His breathing became short and rapid. Every nerve began to twitch, causing him to shake. By the time Alexander calmed himself down and worked up the courage to look at his hand, the mysterious object had done its damage. His hand was burned. Blistered skin hung off the bone. When he looked back at the crater, the culprit was now visible. It was a piece of...something. A kind of technology. Alexander immediately began to speculate as to its origin. It wasn't like anything he'd ever seen. Was it a satellite that had fallen into the atmosphere and burned up? No. Alexander was sure of one thing. Whatever the object was, it wasn't made by any mind on this world. He knew he needed to go to hospital. Pulling off his shirt, Alexander draped it over the object, hoping it would remain hidden until he returned.

* * *

He opened his eyes but aside from the few flashing lights on the wall panel, there was only darkness. That soon changed as the walls gave way to actual sunlight. The sky above was red, signaling that the sun would soon disappear behind the horizon. But he didn't know that. He didn't know much of anything. His experiences were all sights and sounds that he couldn't fully comprehend.

_"Be careful. You don't know what's in there."_

An unknown voice filled his ears. It had come from outside, where the sky was. But he could only look up. He could only wait as a strange figure appeared over him. A person. He had seen people before. Kind people. Familiar people. This person was new. The face that looked down at him was fearful but still kind and definitely curious. The voice appeared again.

_"Get away from there, woman. It could be dangerous. Martha Clark Kent, are you listening to me?"_

The face turned away, most likely to look at the voice. Then back. Arms reached out and slid underneath him, lifting him out of the little chamber.

"Jonathan, look. It's a baby."

The one holding him looked down, smiling. Another figure approached. This one was different but still with an undeniable look of curiosity. Little Kal-El looked at these strangers, at this strange world. He couldn't comprehend what was happening. He didn't know of his journey across the stars. But in the arms of these people, he felt safe.

* * *

It was late by the time Alexander got home from the hospital. The doctors had bandaged up his hand and his ribs. He didn't tell them what had happened. He didn't give his name and when he realised that they were going to call the police or perhaps social services, he made a quick and quiet exit. The doctors told him that his hand would never fully heal. He'd need plastic surgery. He couldn't afford it of course. Tomorrow he would look for a glove he could wear to hide the scars. For now though, Alexander had other things to deal with. Upon leaving the hospital, he had returned to the industrial park. The strange object was still there. Much cooler and easy to touch. It was far to large to fit into his bag. As night fell over Metropolis, he had dragged the object back to the rail yard, to one of the overturned cars. It would be safe there until he could figure out what to do with it. Lionel was passed out on the couch, as usual.

As Alexander made his way towards the stairs, a creaky floor alerted Lionel. He awoke gradually, giving himself a dozen blinks before fully returning to consciousness. Turning in his chair, he noticed Alexander looking back at him nervously.

"What are you doing? What time is it?"

"After midnight."

The first thing Lionel noticed was the bag over his shoulder.

"Where were you?"

"I was..."

It was then that Lionel noticed the bandaging and the black eye. "What happened? Were you fighting."

"No...I mean I was..."

"Did you win?"

Alexander hung his head. Lionel shook his.

"Dammit Alexander. My son doesn't lose, dammit. Do you hear me? And what the hell is that on your clothes? Were you playing with the neighbour's damn dog? I told you to stay away from that mutt."

Alexander didn't know what he was talking about. He put it down to the alcohol. "I'm going to bed, dad."

"Yeah, do what you want...no, wait. Did you go down to Bibbo's place like I told you?"

"No, I'll uh...I'll go tomorrow."

"You'll go tomorrow? Grow the hell up Alexander. You're fourteen years old and I'm not made of money. You think it's easy for me trying to support you? If I tell you to do something, you damn well better do it. You're going to start paying rent or you're not living under this roof. You understand? You need to start pulling your weight around here. You're supposed to be so smart. Well how about using that brain of yours to get us out of this hell hole, huh? Come on, your mother, your teachers, they all say how great little Alexander is. Alexander the Great. Don't make me laugh. You're nothing. Do you understand? You're nothing until I say otherwise."

Alexander was done listening. He'd heard it all before. In the past he would just put it down to the booze. He'd stand there and tune out his father's voice. It was day after day. Bottle after bottle. But today? Today he'd been kicked around. Today his favourite books had been torn to shreds. Today his hand had been burned to a crisp. Today he'd discovered that just maybe, there was other intelligent life in the universe. No, today was going to end on his terms.

"You know what, Dad...to hell with you."

"What did you say!?"

"You heard me. I'm done listening to you go on and on about how your crappy life is everyone else's fault. Mom's, mine, your father's...you want me to get a job and earn some money? Fine. Take your own advice. You sit around day and night, collecting disability, watching TV...just sitting on your ass. I do all the chores, I do all the heavy lifting and you dare to accuse me of not pulling my weight? Screw you, Dad."

Lionel was seething with rage. He stood up, prepared to give his son more than just a piece of his mind. "How dare you !? You think you can waltz in here and speak to your father like that? You think your black eye and your hand give you a free pass? Because you've got another thing coming." Lionel took a step forward. Alexander stood his ground. "That's it. Be a man. Stay right where you are and take what's coming to you. I should have beaten some sense into you a long time ago."

He took another step. Alexander didn't move. Then another. That's when it happened. A chill ran through his body. Whatever strength he had seemed to just melt away as he staggered backwards and collapsed into the chair. His breathing was labored, every breath was excruciating. When his arm went numb, the colour had disappeared from his face.

"Alexander...bathroom...my pills...hurry..." he struggled to speak, the tightness in his chest increasing.

Alexander moved quickly. He entered the bathroom and opened the cabinet, grabbing his father's pills. His reflection in the mirror caused him to stop. There seemed to be some fur or hair of some kind on his shirt. It took him a moment to realise it was his own. Running his fingers over his scalp, he brought his hand down to look. It was covered in his red hair. It was starting to fall out. In an instant, Alexander deduced that coming into contact with the meteorites and the object had done more than just burn his hand. They must have been radioactive. He cursed himself for his stupidity. But for right now, there were more important matters to deal with.

When Alexander returned to his father, Lionel's whole body had seized up. He could speak only in sharp, breathless whispers, barely getting out a word at a time. "Please...Alexander..."

Alexander started to rush to his father's side, but as he looked at this man, a frail, helpless drunk, he felt nothing. He stopped and observed each twinge of pain that flooded his father's body. Then he saw his own future. The life insurance policy his mother had insisted on taking out. It wouldn't be enough to make Alexander's life comfortable but it would be enough to get him started. He had ideas. Ideas he could never realise under this roof. There was more out there for him. Not just in the world, but among the stars. He just had to grasp the opportunity. At fourteen he wouldn't be able to access the money. It would be put in a trust. He'd go to live with his mother's family and his sister. He hadn't seen her in five years. Another tragedy for poor Alexander. They'd have to take him in. They'd have to do what's best for him. Nurture his intelligence, give him the freedom to do what he needed to do. But only if his father died, here and now.

"Al...Alexander..."

"You know, I hate that name. You and Mom named me after one of the great conquerors of the world. But I'm not Alexander The Great. Look at me. Living in a house that could fall apart any day with a father who's too busy drinking and smoking eating who knows what to realise that he's killing himself. You blame everyone else for your problems and you never look to yourself. Yeah, grandfather blew a fortune and left you in the poorhouse. So what? You're a Luthor. You do what the Luthors before you have done. You take back what's yours. Instead you settled. Settled for poverty. Settled for a wife and two kids. Oh but little Alexander is a genius. He'll make me rich someday, right Dad? He'll get it all back. Oh I won't help him. I won't do everything I can to make sure my own son has what he needs. No I'll blame him for my woes and expect him to be grateful. Was that your plan? Because it's a great one."

"Alexander...please...I need..." Lionel begged, his condition getting worse with each passing moment.

"You sit around doing nothing. You cheat your way to free money from the government because you're too damn lazy to get off your fat ass and do something about the squalor you allow yourself and your own family to live in. You're not a real Luthor, Dad. I've read up on our family history. We did it in school. You know, the school you put me in after Mom died, the one filled with future gangbangers and drug dealers. You see Luthors, real Luthor's, don't let anything or anyone stand in their way. They don't wallow in self-pity, they don't blame the world for their problems and they don't let the world beat them."

"Alexander..."

"I told you, I hate that name. You know that old saying about Alexander The Great? About how he reached the end of the world and wept because there was nothing left to conquer? Well here's a quick history lesson Dad. Alexander The Great died in failure. He bit off more than he could chew and found that he couldn't conquer the whole world. You didn't name me for a great man, you named me for a man who's eyes were too big for his stomach. That's not me. His armies mutinied and begged him to return them to their wives before his conquest of the east could be completed. He relented. He gave in and gave up. That won't be my fate. I won't stop at India. He died, not as a conqueror, not as a great king, but as a drunk and a mere mortal. That will not be my fate. Alexander The Great was nothing and I will not share his name. My name is Lex."

Lex watched his father grip his chest. He watched his life start to slip away. Lex felt nothing. He held the bottle of pills in his hand. He did nothing. He merely watched.

"You see Dad, you're my India. My unconquerable land. But I've conquered you and I didn't even have to do anything. I only have to watch as you wither away. I don't need to kill you. You've already killed yourself. You die here, as nothing. Nobody will remember you. Nobody will mourn you. You're just a feeble old drunk whose heart finally gave out. A sad story not worth retelling. When I die, the world will remember me. I promise you. History will record my name, my deeds. My legacy."

Lex stood by as his father's body finally gave up the fight. After one final spasm, Lionel's body sank into the chair, lifeless. Lex watched for a moment as the tension went out of every muscle. After a few minutes, he went to the phone to call 911.

"Hello...yes my father's had a heart attack. I think he's dead...me? My name is Lex Luthor."


	8. Battle Lines

**CHAPTER EIGHT**

**Battle Lines**

Running. Breathing heavily. His knock off shoes splashing through puddles, the water seeping through the fabric and soaking his striped socked. Just another night in Gotham. Just another Crime Alley thug running for his life.

He shouted, pleaded with people as he ran. "Come on, you gotta help me. Please, for the love of God, somebody hide me."

Nobody responded. They were all criminals, most of them anyway. Some were out on parole, others just hadn't been caught yet. They had a code. If someone is being chased by the Batman, stay the hell out of the way.

He turned into a narrow side street. There were no lights there. Maybe he could hide. Maybe he could duck down behind the dumpster, stay in the shadow and wait for the Caped Crusader to pass by. He waited for five, maybe ten minutes, his odor being masked by the stench of dead rats and old garbage. Everything fell quiet. Batman must have moved on. Crouched down behind the dumpster, his legs started to cramp up. He tried to ignore the pain but in the end he had no choice. He stood up from his hiding place and started to walk, occasionally shaking out his leg. The coast seemed clear.

Moving slowly, he made his way back out on to the main street. Everyone ignored him. But that was a good thing. It's better to go unnoticed in Crime Alley. His confidence up, he increased his stride and started to make his way back home. He'd only gone ten paces when something wrapped itself around his leg and pulled him into the air. He flew upwards towards the ledge of a nearby building. When he stopped, the rope around his leg was removed and he found himself being thrown on to the rooftop. His body bruised, it took him a moment to realise that he wasn't alone.

"B-Bat-Batman?"

"Moxy Jordan!" Batman declared as he moved towards his suspect, his eyes piercing through his mask. "You work for the Penguin."

"What? No, no...the Penguin?"

"You were at the Iceberg Lounge."

"The Iceberg...look, I'm a bouncer at the club, alright? That's it."

"A bouncer. And a low level enforcer in Cobblepot's smuggling operation."

"I swear I'm not..."

Batman lifted Moxy up by his collar and dragged him back towards the ledge. Summoning his strength, Batman lifted Moxy of his feet and hung him out over the edge.

"Do you know why weightlifters only lift for three seconds in competition? It's because when you're dealing with that kind of weight, even three seconds is a challenge. When you're supporting that kind of weight, your muscles start to seize up, they burn and your whole body feels it. Every tendon stretches, threatening to snap, the longer you hold on, the more stress is placed on your arms. They shake and you can't control it until eventually you have no choice. You have to let go. The truth is, it doesn't take all that much weight. Even a weasel like you is heavy enough to cause my arms to shake eventually. The question is, how long will that take?"

Moxy considered his position. There was nowhere for him to run and he certainly wasn't capable of going toe to toe with Batman. If he spilled the beans, Penguin would be mad. On the other hand, Batman was confronting him here and now, towering over him. The choice was easy. "Don't...don't hurt me. I'll tell you what you want to know."

"I know," Batman replied, his gravelly voice sending a chill through Moxy's spine. The Penguin has a shipment coming in from Bialya. I want to know when and where."

"Two...two nights from now. By boat. I don't know which pier. I swear."

"I'm getting impatient. And my arms are getting tired."

"I told you, I don't know where...but I know it's not going to the Lounge. The Penguin made some kind of deal with Black Mask. It's going to one of his warehouses. Now please, let me go."

"Fine."

His fingers relaxed, his grip eased and Moxy Jordan fell. The cold and wet concrete approached rapidly, threatening to snap his bones on impact. It would take a little more than a second to hit the ground but for Moxy, looking back up at the demonic mask of the Batman, that second would feel like a lifetime. Batman looked back at Moxy, a cool calmness visible, even through the cowl. He waited. He knew what would happen next.

It had been in his third year as Batman that he had set up sonic sensors around the city in his attempt to track crime across Gotham. By year five, he'd launched a satellite that was in geo-synchronised orbit over the city to give him a full view of the Gotham and the surrounding area. Both systems were controlled by the computer system underneath Wayne Manor, and fed directly to Batman's cowl. The sonic sensors picked up something. It was moving to quickly to pinpoint. The super-high resolution camera pointed down from space caught a glimpse, but little more. Batman knew what it was. He knew what was coming. He let go. And Moxy fell.

The ground approached. Moxy's heart skipped more than a few beats. And then, a miracle. He slowed. An angel brought him to the ground. An angel in red and blue. As Moxy tried to compose himself, the angel ascended back towards the roof. Moxy knew better than to stick around. The gods were done tormenting a lowly mortal for now.

Batman stepped back from the ledge as Superman floated up over the edge and landed assuredly on the rooftop. "Hell of a way to say hello, Bruce."

"Shouldn't you be out looking for a mad man?"

"That's why I'm here. I need your help. He knows who I am. He burned down..."

"The farm. I know."

"How did...?" Superman started to ask, before realising who he was talking to. "Never mind."

"I'm busy."

"Maybe I can help."

"No."

"It would go a lot faster..."

"No. Come to the cave at dawn."

There was nothing else to be said. Opening a panel on his gauntlet, Batman entered a command code. Within seconds, a black plane descended from the skies, stopping over their heads. Removing his grapple-gun from his belt, Batman did a quick calculation before shooting a line that hooked on to the open cockpit of the plane. Superman watched as the plane disappeared into the clouds again, Batman pulling himself up into the cockpit as it flew.

* * *

Professor Vale sat in the corner of his lab, his work complete. Luthor had been gone for days. In that time, Vale had worked without food or rest. He knew that Lex would likely kill him if he failed. He poured through Professor Ivo's notes, trying to rediscover his late colleague's work. The kind of technology Ivo had been dealing with was far beyond anything Vale had ever contemplated. He understood some of the terms and the underlying principles, but the actual mechanics were a mystery, even with the notes. The kind of synthetic DNA Ivo had created using nanotechnology was far ahead of his time. As Vale read on, he began to suspect that it may have even been alien.

Vale's expertise was cybernetics. He prided himself in being able to rebuild the human body, to restore lost limbs that were as good as, perhaps better than the originals. For a long time he dealt in theory and it was Lex Luthor he gave him the chance to turn theory into practice. He could vividly recall the day John Corben was wheeled into his lab on a gurney. Corben's limbs had been shattered, his spine broken in two, his organs failing. That he was even barely alive was a miracle. It was Lex Luthor who wanted to see Corben remade, not into a man but a monster. It was Luthor who introduced Vale to kryptonite and its amazing properties. The Metallo project was a complete success, apart from Corben's murderous rampage through Metropolis, brought on by a psychotic break upon learning of his new existence. Vale should have gone to jail. The prosecutor at his trial made a strong case but Vale had the best attorneys on the East Coast at his disposal, thanks to the apparent generosity of his benefactor. He'd made a deal with the devil and now he was paying the price.

As the doors of the impossibly large bunker carved into the mountain opened and Luthor made his entrance, Vale knew the reunion wasn't going to be pretty. He had finished his work but it wasn't what Lex had wanted. Having failed to adapt Ivo's work, Vale set about complying with Luthor's original request, back when he was president. He knew that there was a very good chance that he wouldn't survive to see the next sunrise and as Lex glanced at his work and followed up with a cold stare in his direction, Vale decided he was done being the whipping boy for Lex Luthor.

"What the hell is this?" Luthor asked as he entered the lab and observed the result of Vale's work.

"It's your Exo-Suit. Based on your own designs but modified. This is what you asked me to build back at the White House."

"We're not in the White House Professor. The reason I brought you here was to build another Amazo. One controlled by my consciousness. It was supposed to save my life."

"And I told you I couldn't do it. But you're so jacked up on kryptonite all you can hear is your own ego."

"Be careful, Professor."

"You're going to die. You need to accept that. Even if I could have built the android, it could take years to figure out how to transfer your consciousness. You have a couple of weeks left at most. You're done, Lex."

"Then why even build the Exo-Suit?"

"Self preservation. You're probably going to kill me and I'm not much of a fighter. So the only chance I've got is to give you what you want - a way to beat Superman."

"I designed the Exo-Suit, Professor. A punch from that thing won't even break his skin."

"I modified the design. One simple addition." Moving to his keyboard, Vale inputted a command. The suit began to open up, revealing a whole network of transparent tubing, filled with green liquid, being pumped around the suit like a circulatory system.

"Kryptonite? That's your solution? He survived a nuclear blast from a warhead filled with the stuff."

"Superman is capable of outflying a blast-wave. But the kryptonite here won't just power the suit. There are injectors lining the inside that will pump the kryptonite directly into your bloodstream. Not just a single dose but a constant supply. If he touches you, his skin will burn. The closer you get to him, the weaker he will become. All you need to do is pick a fight."

Lex took a closer look at the suit. Each arm was capable of striking with tremendous force. The plasma-blasters in the palms had been converted to fire concentrated bursts of kryptonite energy. Superman had survived kryptonite many times. But if Lex could just get Superman close enough and then find a way to keep him there while the kryptonite took effect, maybe he'd gain the advantage.

"That much kryptonite...it will numb me to any pain..."

"It will do more than that, Lex. If you wear this suit, it will kill you. Your mind will disintegrate and that will be it."

Once again, Lex found himself deep in thought. With this suit, he might just have a chance against Superman but any victory would be short-lived. The kryptonite would not only completely destroy his diseased brain, his organs would fail and start to break down. Thanks to the kryptonite, he wouldn't feel a thing but it was clear, this suit was a last resort. But the alternative was to hide until the kryptonite doses or the cancer killed him.

"I have no interest in waiting to die. I'll do it on my terms. Tomorrow is the day Superman dies and if I have to go with him, so be it."

"And what about me?" Vale asked.

"It seems your work is done."

"And I'm a loose end, right?"

"Emmet, I've no intention of killing you."

As Lex said the words, Vale felt hesitated to take them to heart. "I'm supposed to believe you?"

"Believe what you like. The truth is, I've never actually killed anyone. Oh, I've had people killed, I allowed my own father to die, but I've never pulled a trigger. There's only one man I want to kill and that's not you."

Vale allowed himself to breathe a sigh of relief. He might see the sunrise after all. "So what do you plan to do with me?"

"See, there's the thing. Otis has killed lots of people. He does it so well, don't you think?"

Vale's face went white as Lex's words sunk in. His whole body tensed up as Otis drew his gun and aimed it at the Professor's head.

"Otis..."

"Yes, Mr. Luthor?"

"Do what you feel..."

"Yes, Mr. Luthor." He squeezed the trigger. The bullet travelled down, tearing through Vale's kneecap. The Professor fell to his knees as Otis walked over to him. "I never liked you," Otis commented as he pressed his gun against Vale's forehead and squeezed the trigger once more.

Lex didn't bother to watch. He was already out the door. Even as sound of the shots echoed through the bunker, Lex didn't flinch. "Take his body to the incinerator. We don't want to leave a mess."

"Right away, Mr. Luthor."

"And when you're done, meet me in the Comm Room. I think it's time I gave my State Of The Union address."

* * *

A dozen screens, each one displaying something different. Two of the screens showed local news networks, another three were national. Another six screens displayed everything from Gotham Police databases to satellite control readouts. In the centre, the seventh and largest screen showed a photograph, taken from an orbiting satellite high above the planet. It was a photograph of a farm on fire in Kansas. Another photograph appeared, taken a couple of minutes later. The smoke had cleared, a figure in red and blue could be identified. That same figure now stood in the large cave under Wayne Manor.

"No. Before that. He must have had a car. If you can track it then we can find him."

Batman didn't bother looking up. "I've already tried. I can track him west for three miles but that's it."

"Come on Bruce, you can do better than that. What good is all this equipment if you can't find one man?" Superman was clearly getting agitated.

"There were three satellites flying over Kansas in that time period, Clark. And Lex Luthor owns two of them. He knew when they'd be overhead. He knew when and where to move in order to avoid them. You're not going to find him this way."

"Then do something else. Find him!"

"You need to calm down."

"Calm down? He came to my home. He burned down the farm, he tried to kill my mother. He knows who I am. That means nobody's safe. Not Lois or Jimmy...nobody."

"And he's the most wanted man in the world. He almost nuked an American city. Every law enforcement agency in the country is looking for him. The Justice League has been on high alert since he and his body guard killed those agents. He'll go to ground but when he resurfaces, we'll find him. He's just one man."

"So are you. And look what you've done as Batman. Lex Luthor is as rich as you and as smart as you. Tell me something, Bruce. If you were on the run, if the whole country was gunning for you, if I was gunning for you, where would you hide?"

Batman pondered the question. It was certainly true that Lex Luthor was one of the few men on the planet capable of challenging him on both a financial and intellectual level. The key difference between them was Bruce's strong sense of morality and justice. "I'd go somewhere nobody knows about. I'd have contingencies in place. Somewhere I could store resources...weapons, cash...whatever I need."

"And that's where Luthor is right now. Hidden. It's gotta be some place off the books."

"Cadmus?"

"No. I checked."

Batman was about to respond when he noticed that all five news broadcasts had dropped their signals, leaving only black screens. It could have been nothing. It could have been a glitch in his own systems but he knew better than that. He had gone to great lengths to ensure that his equipment was not only the most secure, but also the most reliable money could buy. When the LexCorp logo faded in, it was obvious what was about to happen. Shifting the Galaxy News broadcast to the centre screen, Batman pushed up the volume. He could sense Superman glaring at the screen.

"If you fry the screen, you're paying for it," Batman warned.

"It's Luthor. Can you track the signal?"

"It's running now."

It wasn't long before the LexCorp logo disappeared and a new image began to appear. The face of the most wanted man on the planet looked back through the camera. Superman instinctively clenched his fists as Luthor smiled. It was on every network, not just in the US, but around the world.

_"My fellow Americans," Luthor began, "the state of the union is...well...who cares? The whole world is watching this transmission and I'm sure that law enforcement agencies are busy trying to track the source. The won't but I'll give them enough time to try."_

"That arrogant son of a..."

"The signal's bouncing around," Batman interrupted. "China, Hawaii, Peru...he's covered his tracks well."

_"I had a speech," Lex continued, "explaining my actions in these past days. I planned to tell you how my intent was to kill the alien interloper known as Superman, how he had damaged human progress, how he and his so-called superhero cohorts and given the world false idols to worship. I was going to justify my actions by telling you all that that Metropolis and everything and everyone in that great city belonged to me, that it was mine to destroy. But as I stand here now in front of the world, I have no wish to rationalise or justify my actions to you. Instead, I'm going to issue a threat and an invitation. That's what the good maniacs do, right?"_

"He _is_ insane," commented Superman as Lex's worldwide address continued.

_"Eighteen minutes ago, every super-max prison in the continental United States had it's security systems overridden, it's communications cut off and by now, dozens of supervillains have made their escape."_

As Luthor spoke, Batman busied himself checking every super-max prison in the country. Sure enough, every single one of them was offline. The Justice League was no doubt working overtime to round up the most dangerous men and women on the planet but the worst one of all was still on the air.

_"I invite you to journey to the great city of Metropolis. Let us bring that great city down. I know some of you will be wary of showing your faces. Well I have ten billion reasons for you to come."_

"He wants a war," Superman exclaimed, struggling to keep his rising anger in check.

"That many super-powered beings, it doesn't matter who wins. Metropolis will be destroyed in the fighting." Batman explained as he began to understand just what Luthor was planning. Luthor himself was just about to confirm his suspicions.

_"Carnage. Destruction on a biblical scale. Even if the Justice League should win the day, Metropolis will burn," confirmed Luthor with a not so subtle grin. "Unless Superman is there to stop it..."_

"And there it is. This is all about you Clark," said Batman. "He's trying to lure you into a trap and he knows you'll take the bait."

"You're damn right I will."

_"I know you're listening Cla...I mean Superman. You're always listening. Noon tomorrow outside LexCorp. Be there and you might just be able to save the city. It's time we finished this." _

It was at that point the transmission cut off. As soon as the news stations were back on the air, they began covering Luthor's address and the mass breakouts from prisons across the country. Within hours, the National Guard would roll into Metropolis to oversee the evacuation of the city even as the most powerful villains on Earth made their way towards it.

* * *

Otis stepped out from behind the camera. The transmission had ended and everything had been set in motion for Lex's final gambit. Otis knew that Luthor was unstable. He knew that the kryptonite injections had poisoned his mind. But as deranged as Lex clearly was, there was no denying his genius. Lex Luthor, known across the world as a great thinker, admired for his strategies and his ability to play the long game, had conceived of a deceptively simple plan.

"Do you think they'll come Mr. Luthor?"

"For ten billion dollars? Wouldn't you? Of course they won't see a cent of that money but greed will drive them. You just be ready to do your part, Otis."

"I don't quite get it, Mr. Luthor. If all you want to do is kill Superman, why bring the world's criminals and the Justice League?"

"Because he has his army and I need mine. But it's more than that, Otis. It's much more. It's not enough for me to kill Superman. This will be the last great act of Lex Luthor and it's going to count. I want the whole world to know that I beat him. I want every sadist and freak who ever put on a costume to fight crime or cause it to know that a simple human being brought a god to his knees. I'm better than him and they're going to see that for themselves. The so-called supervillains will come to rain destruction down upon that city and the Justice League will try to stop them. But when the dust settles, every head will be turned towards me and him. They'll see my hands around his throat and when the deed is done, nobody will ever forget the name, Lex Luthor."

* * *

High above the Earth, a space station orbited the planet. Officially it didn't exist. There was no record of any space launches from NASA or any other space agency to send astronauts and materials up to build it. No money was ever attributed to the costs. The boards of Queen Industries and Wayne Enterprises were never made aware that their companies provided the bulk of the funding and technology for the space station. The costs were hidden in thousands of other projects. Invisible to all scanning technology on the planet and with a deliberately erratic orbit, the station was very difficult to spot by even the most keen observers. Security and secrecy were absolutely vital as it was the home base of the most powerful organisation in the world; the Justice League. They called it The Watchtower.

The observation deck allowed the heroes of the world to look down upon the world they protected. Advanced propulsion technology allowed for rapid deployment of teams to any area on the planet, with teleport technology, salvaged from Apokoliptan battle ships, providing instant relocation for small groups. The observation deck wasn't the uppermost part of the station. Another level above was accessible by just a small group of people, known by their peers as the First Seven. They were the founders of the Justice League and now they were meeting to discuss the most dire of circumstances.

"We've captured forty seven escaped prisoners," J'onn J'onzz, the Martian Manhunter confirmed. "Eight three are still at large."

"We know we're they're going," Diana, princess of Themyscira, known to the world as Wonder Woman declared. "The National Guard already has a perimeter set up around the city. We should send people to reinforce them and make sure nobody else gets in.

"It's already being done," replied J'onn. "But we can't risk an escalated confrontation while the city is being evacuated. We need to contain the threat."

"You can't contain it," said Batman as he stood by the window, looking down at the planet. After all these years, it was still strange for him to be among these super-powered beings. "We don't have the numbers, not with most of the League already out looking for the escapees, not to mention the ones who were already free and want to join the party. Ten billion dollars to be shared among anyone who shows up...that's a lot of money to turn down, especially for criminals."

"Then we'll get the numbers," Aquaman, once Arthur Curry and now King Orin of Atlantis, declared. "My fleet is ready to join the battle."

"As are the Amazons," Diana added.

"No. This is what Luthor wants. A war," said Superman. "He wants us to send everything we've got at him. It's a distraction."

"A distraction?" Barry Allen AKA The Flash, asked.

"It's me he wants. Everything else is just for show. He doesn't care about destroying Metropolis. He cares about his own ego."

"Sure," Hal Jordan agreed. "He wants to be the man who took out Superman."

"What about the Green Lanterns?" J'onn asked. "Can they offer assistance in containing the supervillains?"

"No can do," Hal responded. "The Guardians consider this to be an internal domestic matter and Kyle and John are investigating some kind of anti-matter breach four sectors over. It's just us."

"So what do we do?" Flash asked, prompting the whole room to descend into silence. It was Superman who eventually spoke up.

"We do what we always do. We save lives, we protect the people. Luthor's the key. If we capture him, that ten billion evaporates and the others won't be so keen to fight. Some will stay and try to cause as much carnage as possible but many will run."

"How can you be sure?" Diana asked.

"They're criminals," replied Batman. "Some want to rule the world, others want to cause as much destruction as possible but if there's anything that unites them it's greed."

The other heroes nodded in agreement. They knew it wouldn't be simple. They knew that Luthor wouldn't go down easy, that he probably had a number of contingencies in place. But with the world's worst criminals descending on Metropolis, above all they knew they were in for one hell of a fight.


	9. War!

**CHAPTER NINE**

**War!**

Metropolis. Noon.

Everyone west of Centennial Park on New Troy Island had been evacuated. At least that was the theory. Lex Luthor's broadcast had gone around the world and even as the National Guard were trying to get people out of the city, thousands were trying to breach the makeshift barrier, wanting front row seats to the biggest show in town. Many within the city refused to leave their homes. Big battles had become somewhat routine for the citizens of Metropolis. It was a fact of life, made bearable by the ever-present hero, Superman.

Positioned on buildings and in the streets around LexCorp, the Justice League waited. Fighting a battle on the streets of a major city wasn't what any of them wanted but Luthor had picked the battlefield. It would be up to the League to draw any fighting away from the few stragglers left behind during the evacuation and the stubborn citizens who refused to leave. Helicopters flew overhead, mounted cameras broadcasting a live feed across the globe. They had all ignored the order not to breach the airspace around the city. No news outlet was going to miss this fight.

At the edge bridge to the mainland, National Guardsmen pointed their rifles outwards. They were the first line of defence. They watched as dozens of figures began walking across the bridge towards them. Some had been a part of the mass breakout orchestrated by Luthor. Others had already been free and wanted in on the action. Most of them were Metahumans but they were all villains.

Lieutenant Kendrick cleared his throat as he brought a megaphone to his lips and prepared to address the oncoming intruders. "This is Lieutenant Kendrick. By order of the National Guard, you are ordered to disperse immediately."

"I don't think they're listening, sir," a young private commented, his trigger finger shaking against the side of his weapon.

"Repeat. Disperse immediately! If you do not comply, you will be fired upon."

Kendrick's words fell on deaf ears. Mercenaries, bank robbers, psychopaths...none of them were turning back. One of the villains, his head covered in a shroud, stepped forward to speak. "If you don't want to get fried, stay out of our way."

Kendrick heard the threat. He felt the eyes of his men on him. There were monsters in the world and they were heading straight for him. "Safety's off, men. Find your targets."

The shrouded villain allowed himself a wry smile as he watched the soldiers prepare to fire. "Let's burn this city down." He removed his shroud, revealing pure energy surrounding his head. A head that appeared without hair or skin, without muscles or cartilage.

"It's Atomic Skull!" one of the soldiers exclaimed.

"Light 'em up!" Kendrick ordered, prompting his soldiers to slide their fingers down to the trigger of their rifles and squeeze. Within an instant, bullets were flying towards their targets.

As soon as she'd heard the order, Killer Frost wasted no time. Water molecules in the atmosphere found themselves being frozen in an instant. The air itself seemed to freeze until a ten-inch wall appeared. By the time the bullets had left their barrels, the wall was already there to protect the villains. When the shooting stopped, Atomic Skull returned fire with a radioactive energy blast. It shattered the ice wall and continued on towards the soldiers. Then it was gone. Absorbed into the body of Captain Atom. The Justice League stood side by side with the soldiers of the National Guard, ready to fight, ready to protect Metropolis. But not everyone had shown up to the party yet.

* * *

"This is ridiculous," complained Superman as he paced back and forth, occasionally glancing out the window. "I can hear the fighting without using my super-hearing. I should be out there."

"No," Batman replied, "This whole party's for you. If you go out there, you'll be playing into Luthor's hands."

'Well I'm not grounded, so I'm going." Lois Lane stated as she moved towards the door.

"Lois, no," Superman pleaded.

"The biggest story of the year's going on out there and I'm stuck in here with you and Mr. Personality over here."

Batman ignored the comment. Instead he moved towards the door to block Lois' path. "It's not safe."

"Bruce, listen. He's my husband. He's got super strength and he shoots fire from his eyes. I don't listen to him all that much."

"It's true," Superman agreed.

"So if I don't listen to him, what makes you think I'm going to listen to you?"

Again, Batman stood firm. A slight shake of his head was all it took for Lois to back down.

"Fine," conceded Lois, "but I want to see what's going on." Reaching out to the coffee table, she picked up the TV remote and turned on the TV. Helicopters were flying high above the city, capturing the action and broadcasting the images around the world. Both Batman and Superman found themselves staring at the television, watching their comrades fight bravely against the worst criminals in the country.

"They've breached the perimeter," commented Batman as the live pictures showed the National Guard retreating back into the city, the supervillains in hot pursuit.

"Still no Luthor!" Superman added. "I can't just sit here, Bruce."

"If you want to go Clark, I can't stop you. I'm asking you to wait. Give J'onn a chance track him down then maybe we can spring a trap of our own.

* * *

The media had dubbed him "The Reverse Flash." It was a name he despised. Being associated with his greatest enemy wasn't a distinction he wanted. He much preferred the name he'd given himself - Professor Zoom. For Zoom, Metropolis had slowed to a crawl. Punches hung in the air for an eternity as he ran by. In the instant it took for him to travel from one side of New Troy Island to the other, nothing else had moved. Nothing apart from the person chasing him. Barry Allen had kept up. More than that, he was catching up to Zoom. For every step Zoom took, Flash was taking two. What Zoom didn't count on was that the person who would seek to become Barry's successor, young Wally West, was approaching from the other direction. By the time Zoom realised what was happening, both Flash and Kid Flash had caught him up in a vortex of pure speed. They circled him, moving faster and faster. Zoom tried to escape but both heroes had effectively created a wall around him. With nowhere to go, Zoom stopped. A mistake. As soon as he put the brakes on, the vortex lifted him into the air. Time returned to normal speed and Zoom found himself trapped in a green bubble created by the ring of Green Lantern.

Not too far away, Slade Wilson AKA Deathstroke found himself in a duel against Dick Grayson's Nightwing and the young Tim Drake, known to the world as Robin. Slicing downwards with his sword, his attack was parried by Robin's staff. Seizing the opportunity, Nightwing went high with a kick only to connect with dead air as Deathstroke ducked under the blow and twisted his whole body around, pulling his gun as he did so. He pulled the trigger. Bullets flew into empty space. Robin had already moved and was bringing his staff back around to Deathstroke's knees. A solid strike caused the hired gun to lose his footing. He fired as he fell, prompting both heroes to move quickly out of the way.

"So, your boss sends the sidekicks to fight me? I'm insulted."

"You're insulted? We're the ones fighting an old man," joked Robin as he ran towards Deathstroke and pressed his staff into the ground to give him enough momentum to carry him over his enemy's head. Nightwing followed up with a flurry of punches to the gut before dodging a sharp stab from Deathstroke's sword.

* * *

J'onn J'onzz stood at the central command station of the Watchtower, high above the planet. Every satellite currently over the eastern United States was feeding him information. The space station's own sensors were also busy, scanning Metropolis and the surrounding area for any sign of Lex Luthor.

"We should be down there," complained Cyborg as he stared at the screen, analysing data. "The fight of the century and we're missing it."

"The fighting is a diversion. The true target is Luthor. We must find him before he can enact his plan." J'onn replied.

"If he even has one. The man's insane."

"An accurate assessment of his mental condition but insane or not, he is still highly intelligent."

"Sure but I feel like I'm being wasted up here. We both are. I can easily program the Watchtower to tell us if something..."

Cyborg paused in mid-sentence. The screen in front of him had begun to flash warning lights. Twelve distinct signals in the Hyper Sector had triggered the alarm.

"What is it?" J'onn asked even as he brought the data up on his own screen.

"Bombs. Twelve of them."

"They're inside buildings."

"That's where the fighting's happening. If those bombs go off, the buildings will come down on everybody."

"Have those buildings been evacuated?"

"I'm picking up life signs in four of them. God, they'll all be crushed."

"Relay the coordinates to the teams on the ground. Hurry."

* * *

Hal Jordan flew back from the SuperMax wing of Stryker's Island prison where he had deposited Professor Zoom. A communication from Cyborg had alerted him to the threat and as he approached the Hyper Sector, the heart of Metropolis' financial district, he knew time was of the essence. Willing his ring to create the construct he needed, Hal sent a wave of green energy outwards. The energy began to split into a series of walls, coming down between heroes and villains, separating each of them and effectively halting the battle.

"Listen to me, all of you. There are bombs in these building and they could go off at any moment."

"Good!" Black Manta responded. "Let this temple of surface dwellers crumble into dust."

"You're not listening," Aquaman interjected, "look around you. If those bombs go off then the buildings fall, crushing you and me and everyone else. You may not care about the people inside or us, but surely you care about your own survival."

"We'll take our chances," responded Black Manta with venom before unleashing a blast of energy from his helmet that caused Green Lantern's construct to collapse. The fighting began again almost immediately. Manta went straight for Aquaman. Trident in hand, the king of Atlantis moved powerfully, striking hard blows against Manta's helmet.

Had any of the heroes or the villains looked up, they would have seen the large and powerful creature, Solomon Grundy flying backwards across the city, the victim of a punch from the Amazon princess known as Wonder Woman. After crashing into the pavement, Grundy gingerly picked himself up as Wonder Woman descended to face him.

"Give it up, Grundy. You can't win this."

"You hit Grundy...Grundy hit back."

With a show of strength, Grundy reached for a nearby pick-up truck and hurled it at Diana. Aware of her surroundings, Wonder Woman dodged the flying truck and then caught it with her lasso before swinging it back down on Grundy's head.

"Stay down," ordered Diana, not knowing that Cheetah was attempting to sneak up behind her. By the time she realised what was happening, Cheetah was ready to strike. But as Wonder Woman turned to fend off her attacker, she was surprised to see what looked like a boxing glove fly past her face, knocking Cheetah to the ground. Looking around for the source, she spotted Green Arrow, bow in hand, already preparing another arrow.

Diana gave Ollie a smile of appreciation before instinctively raising her arms to block several bullets being fired at her by the assassin Deadshot from his position on top of the Galaxy Broadcasting building. As she started towards the assassin, her attention was drawn back to Grundy, who had pulled himself out from under the truck.

With Diana distracted, Deadshot loaded another bullet into the chamber of his rifle and lined up his shot. What he didn't count on was that his initial attack had given away his position to the other marksman on the street. A well placed shot from Ollie sent an arrow straight down the barrel of the rifle just as Deadshot was firing. Backfiring, the rifle exploded in Deadshot's hands, causing him to fall back onto the rooftop, unconscious.

Hal Jordan watched the fighting. He knew this couldn't go on. The bombs could go off any second.

"J'onn, this is Green Lantern," said Hal as he activated his communicator, "patch me through to Batman."

* * *

The Metropolis sewer system was rife with filth and a whole manner of unmentionably disgusting things. Hardly the place for a genius inventor like Toyman. But he had completed his mission and he was willing to put up with the stench. The money Luthor would give him would set him up for life and give him all the funding he would ever need to make his toys. The brutish presence of Otis caught his attention. Rather than cower, Toyman rubbed his hands with glee.

"Time to play a game I think, yes?" Toyman asked, hoping his work would be well received.

"The bombs are all armed then?"

"Oh my, yes. There's Teddy bomb, Jack-in-a-bomb, Barbie bomb...a personal favourite..."

"All twelve buildings?"

"Yes, yes. Twelve buildings, twelve very special toys."

"And the trigger?"

Toyman reached into his pocket and pulled out what looked like an old, worn out Gameboy. He handed it to Otis, not bothering to hide the glee in his face .

"A. B. Start...BOOM!" Toyman explained as he showed Otis how to trigger the bombs. "I did good, yes?"

"Yes, you did good."

"And I can make all the toys I want for the good boys and girls?"

"Not quite," replied Otis as he took out his pistol.

"That's cheating." Toyman complained, the last words he would ever say being lost to the slime of the sewer as Otis fired his weapon, killing the insane inventor.

Pulling out his phone, Otis hit speed dial. He knew the call would be traced but it didn't matter now. "Mr. Luthor, I have it."

Luthor's response was picked up in the Watchtower by J'onn and Cyborg. It was picked up by the FBI and by Cadmus. It was also picked up on the other side of the island, in an apartment on Sullivan Lane, by the ears of the Man Of Steel.

"By all means Otis, let the fireworks begin."

* * *

The fighting continued. A CNN camera crew had gotten into the city and was broadcasting the battle on the ground. Pointing the camera upwards, the cameraman picked up a battle between Captain Marvel and Sinestro. Nearby, Parasite had attempted to steal the energy and power from Wonder Woman only to be caught in a radioactive blast from Atomic Skull, who had been aiming for Captain Atom.

Underneath their feet, Otis was running. He planned to make sure he was at a safe distance before triggering the bombs. Each bomb had been carefully planted. Twelve buildings in the Hyper Sector would fall. Those twelve buildings surrounded the tallest building in Metropolis - LexCorp Tower. Luthor didn't just want to topple a few buildings, he wanted to make a statement.

As Killer Frost tried to trip up Barry Allen by laying ice at his feet, Major Force joined Atomic Skull in facing Captain Atom. Deathstroke had eluded Robin and Nightwing only to find himself in a heated battle against Green Arrow. It seemed the battle would never end. For every villain taken down, another seemed to be there to take his place.

A few, like Copperhead and Mirror Master, decided to leave the party early. It was a battle too big for them, no matter how much money was on offer. For those who stayed, not all of them were motivated by greed. Some were in it for revenge against the heroes who had put them away, others just wanted to have a little fun. With the battle raging and time running out, only Green Lantern was free to search for the bombs. He needed help. It came in the form of a blast of heat vision from the heavens.

Time seemed to stop. Heroes and villains alike looked up to see the red cape fluttering against a cool breeze. He'd had enough of waiting. Whatever Luthor's plan, he couldn't just stand by and do nothing.

"Enough!" commanded Superman as he touched down. For a moment, the villains stood in awe. It took them a while to remember that Superman was the enemy. Grundy charged past Wonder Woman, his hand balled into a fist as he swung hard, aiming for the side of Superman's head. Superman took the blow. He was unmoved. Taking a breath, compressing massive amounts of air in his lungs, Superman exhaled hard and like a gust of wind in a hurricane, blew Grundy off his feet. Major Force and Atomic Skull attacked together. Before either of them could unleash any kind of meaningful assault, Superman exhaled another lung-full of air. This time it was freezing cold, trapping Skull and Force in ice.

Slipping from Captain Marvel's grasp, Sinestro dived down from the sky, pointing his ring and sending a powerful blast of energy towards Superman. Rather than try to dodge, Superman flew straight up, through the construct energy, shattering it, before landing a heavy punch that sent Sinestro hurtling back towards space. As Superman returned to the ground, the other villains found themselves backing away. They all knew Superman was powerful but today he seemed invincible.

"You've got two choices. You can keep fighting and lose and maybe get crushed by all these buildings falling on your heads, or you can let us do what we do best and save your sorry behinds."

The villains began to look at each other, none of them sure what to say. Superman took their silence for agreement.

"Good. Wonder Woman, Captain Marvel, Green Lantern, there are people in those buildings. We need to get them out. Flash, get to those bombs. If you can disarm them, do it. If not, get them out of the city. The rest of you, keep an eye on those guys." Superman ordered, pointing to the criminals and mercenaries who had come to fight but were now backing down.

Over the next few minutes, the heroes of the Justice League began evacuating the buildings. Some, like the staff of the Daily Planet who had refused to leave before the fighting started, were reluctant to leave now but with so much at stake, Perry White promised to fire them if they stayed. Meanwhile, both Flash and Kid Flash ran through each building, searching for the bombs. When they came back empty-handed, they noted the look of concern of Superman's face.

"I can't find any bombs," Flash conceded.

"Me neither," Kid Flash agreed. "Can't you use your X-Ray vision or something?"

"Every building in this area was rebuilt or restored by LexCorp after Darkseid almost destroyed the city. He lined them all with lead."

"Well I didn't see anything that looked like a bomb," Flash explained.

"Toys," said Batman, catching everyone but Superman off guard as he appeared from out of nowhere. "I found Toyman's body in the sewers. I figured it would be the easiest way for Luthor to get around the city unnoticed. I was right. Anything that looks like a toy is probably a bomb."

"How right you are!"

The voice came from above. Looking up, Superman spotted his enemy, standing high atop LexCorp Tower. Lex Luthor looked down on his city, on the heroes and villains he had gathered to witness a historic event. He stood a powerful figure, concealed within his Exo-Suit, kryptonite running through his blood. He stepped off the large skyscraper, maneuvering thrusters slowing his descent until he landed safely on the ground in front of Superman.

"Unfortunately, I don't have the trigger," Luthor continued, not bothering to hide his enjoyment of the moment.

"What do you want?" Superman asked with anger in his voice.

"What do I want? You have to ask? I want you, Superman. You've taken everything from me and I want to kill you."

"By destroying the city?"

"If you're going to go out, I say go out with a bang."

"You're insane."

"And whose fault is that? You don't even know what you've done to me. Go ahead and look. Use that X-Ray vision of yours and see inside my soul."

Superman obliged, focusing his eyes to see through the Exo-suit, through skin and muscle. What he saw shocked him. Kryptonite running through Lex's body, numbing him to all pain. His heart was a sickly green.

"Lex what have you done?"

"Take a closer look. Look inside my mind."

Focusing through Luthor's skull, Superman saw the kryptonite rotting Lex's brain and the tumour that caused him to take such extreme measures.

"Cancer?"

"That's right. Your stupid little planet and it's stupid green rock did this to me. If you had just stayed on your damn farm instead of trying to save the world and manipulate these people into worshipping you, I would have had no need to wear kryptonite on my finger or use it to make weapons to kill you. But no, you had to be Superman. You had to be the hero. Is it the adulation you love? Or being a god in their eyes?"

Superman felt pity for the man standing before him. That pity might have translated to mercy had Lex asked for it. But Lex never would. "You never did understand, Lex. The notion that someone could try to do good just because it's the right thing to do is more alien to you than I am to this planet."

"Spare me your lesson in ethics. The cold hard truth is that a few hours ago, I had weeks to live. Thanks to this suit, I'll be dead by the end of the day. The kryptonite traveling through my arteries and back through my veins is poison. But it also gives me what I need to see you fall. When I die, I'll have the pleasure of knowing I killed you first."

The people who had been evacuated began to gather around, as did the members of the National Guard, their rifles trained on Lex. Behind Luthor, Batman had a batarang in hand, ready to throw. Freed from the watchful eyes of her husband and the Dark Knight, Lois Lane had made her way to where the action was and she now stood amongst the gathered crowd of onlookers, waiting for what would happen next. With a camera crew on the ground and helicopters in the air, the world was watching events unfold.

"The kryptonite has poisoned your mind, Lex." Superman argued, trying to talk Lex down from doing anything that would endanger people.

"Yes it has. But I'm dead anyway."

"What do you want?"

"I told you. Just you. They call you a superman...well I want to test that theory. You were handed your gifts. I earned what I have. A superman is perfection. The embodiment of human potential. But you're not even human. You look like us but you're never going to be one of us, no matter how often you lie to them and to yourself. This isn't your world, it's mine. I deserve the adulation. I should have the statue in Centennial Park. Without your powers, what would you be? Nothing. I'm the true Superman and today I show the world what human potential is truly capable of. To put it in terms your feeble mind can understand - I'm better than you."

"And you want to prove that by...what...fighting me?"

"I'm full of kryptonite. You won't be able to come near me without a sharp pain running down your spine. When I punch you...and I will punch you...each blow will be a nail in your coffin."

"I'm not going to fight you, Lex."

"Oh, I think you will. If you don't, the bombs go off. If any of your hero friends try to intervene, the bombs go off. If anyone...hero, villain, good citizen of Metropolis, if anyone at all tries to leave, the bombs go off." Lex grinned as he moved towards Superman, knowing that with each step, the kryptonite in his blood would cause his enemy to weaken. He could see the grimace on Superman's face, the sweat forming above his brow. Then quietly, with words meant only for Superman to hear, he whispered: "What's it going to be, Clark?"

Before Superman could respond, Lex tensed the right arm of his Exo-Suit and threw a hard uppercut. It connected under Superman's chin, sending the Man Of Steel flying backwards, crashing against an abandoned car. Superman got to his feet and clenched his own fists.

"You don't have to do this," said Batman.

"I don't have a choice. Keep everyone back. This is between me and him. Nobody else needs to get hurt."

"That's right," Lex agreed. "It's you and I."

Firing the thrusters, Lex flew directly at Superman, fist balled, ready to land another hard strike as the world looked on.


End file.
